Bella
by Brillant
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange was one of the most notorious of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, known for her unwavering support of her Master. But no one is born mad. This story explains how it came to be. BL/LV, BL/RL. Smut and moral ambiguity abound. WIP.
1. One

_Author's Note: I have been working on this for a bloody long time, after suddenly becoming overwhelmingly interested in Bellatrix as a character. I want to know why she became a Death Eater, what exactly the nature of her relationship with Voldemort was, why she was so devoted to him, and why she ended up married to Rodolphus Lestrange. I thought the best way to do this was through writing a fic about her! It will be LV/BL, there will be smut, and it will be quite long. I would really appreciate some kind of feedback - whether it's about the fic itself, or just your ideas on the enigma that is Bellatrix Lestrange! Many thanks, and onto the first chapter! :)_

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><p>There are twenty years to go,<br>a golden age I know.  
>But all will pass, will end to fast, you know.<br>There are twenty years to go,  
>and many friends I hope,<br>though some may hold the rose, some hold the rope.  
>(Twenty Years, Placebo)<p>

_June 1972._

The grandfather clock in the room ticked lazily, outside the gentle summer breeze rustled through the trees, and from the drawing room came the sound of the piano tinkling; it was no doubt Andromeda, whiling away the afternoon. Bellatrix sat on one of the stiff wooden chairs in the conservatory, a book propped in her lap and a pot of steaming tea stood on the small table to her right. But her eyes were not focused upon that ridiculous wizarding romance, nor was she listening to any of the noises around her. She simply watched the field of lavender in the distance, as the colourful plants swayed in the breeze, rippling like a beautiful piece of silk. She gave a sigh and snapped the book shut, placing it on the floor and resting her black boots atop it. The melody of the piano continued, as did the ticking of the clock, but still she remained staring at the distance.

She gave a sigh as a wasp flew in through the open French doors, before circling the teapot and the plate of buttered muffins. Bellatrix listened to it for a moment, the buzzing only contributing to the symphony of that summer's day, until she slowly picked up her wand from the table and gave it a delicate flick. The wasp was suspended in mid-air, as she slowly turned to look at it, reaching over and grasping it lightly between two red-painted fingernails. Slowly and carefully, she rolled her fingers so that the wasp rested on the pad of her thumb and, with a slight wince at the shock of the sting, she squashed the insect between her fingers. The door opened as she delicately wiped her fingers on the napkin that also rested on the plate, and turned to see that Narcissa had entered the room. The perfectly rounded nose of her little sister wrinkled at the sight of what her sister had just done, as she walked further into the room and perched on the edge of the seat opposite Bellatrix.

"That is disgusting, you know, Bella." She said rather haughtily, to which Bellatrix responded with a small quirk of her lips.

"I find it quite the contrary. I think it is beautiful to watch as, one minute, something is quite alive, but the next it is decidedly dead."

"Don't you feel any guilt that you brought about that poor creature's death in that way?"

"Not at all. The fact that I caused its death renders it more beautiful still."

Bellatrix was twenty one – in fact, it was her birthday that very day. As was the custom in her family, she had received no gifts and no mention was made of the occasion at all, for the real celebration would take place the following evening. All of pureblood society had been invited to her father's estate in Kent for the occasion, with particular emphasis placed on the young men of their acquaintance. Druella Black had decided that her eldest daughter had been out of Hogwarts for too long, and it was shameful that she had not yet secured herself a husband – that was, Bellatrix's parents hoped, to be swiftly rectified after the party. But they did not seem to understand that their daughter had no desire to be married, to anyone, ever. Not even if he had scored the best marks in his Potions N.E.W.T or if his family owned three different estates around Europe. Bellatrix had never met any man who she would find it acceptable to be married to; they were all ridiculous, so spineless and simpering. She would never be like her sisters – not like Andromeda with a different boyfriend every week or Narcissa who, although only seventeen, was already eagerly anticipating the day that she became engaged.

Narcissa gave a sigh and stood up, and Bellatrix watched as she walked gracefully around the circular room. There had been times when, only briefly, Bellatrix had felt jealous of Narcissa's appearance. She was blonde and almost angelic, always so carefree and nonchalant about the world. Bellatrix had never felt either of those things; she had only ever felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment. Her younger sister began to toy with one of the lilies that stood in a vase by the door, and gave another sigh, before looking at Bellatrix slyly.

"Bella...do you know if Lucius Malfoy has been invited to the party?"

"I doubt it. You must remember that this is the pureblood equivalent of a meat market, Cissy, but only the very best buyers have been invited. An eighteen year old nitwit isn't going to make me a suitable husband, is he? So no, I daresay he won't be there." Narcissa pouted moodily.

"It's terribly unfair. I want a party for me; I want mama and papa to invite all of the men that _I _might marry. Then Lucius would be asked here, and I could dance with him all night and nobody would care a fig."

"No doubt mama and papa shall do just that...when you too turn twenty one, if you haven't already captured that poor Malfoy beggar and forced him to marry you before then, of course."

The door opened once more, and Andromeda entered the room. Unlike Narcissa, she did not enter the room fully, but simply hovered by the doorway. Narcissa rolled her eyes as acknowledgement of her sister's presence, and Bellatrix simply sneered.

"What do you want?" Narcissa asked bluntly.

"Papa wishes to speak to you in his study, Bella." She said haughtily. "He says it is urgent, and you must come at once."

Bellatrix stood slowly and smoothed down her robes, towering over both of her sisters. As she left the room she gave a discrete flick of her wand, and walked the length of the corridor to her father's study with a smirk at the distant sound of Andromeda's pain. When she approached the door to the study, it opened by itself and she stepped into the seldom-visited room. Her father stood at the window looking, as she had done, out towards the lavender fields. Bellatrix stood still in the centre of the room until he spoke to her.

"Tell me, Bellatrix, do you know of the name Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes, papa, but only a little. Only what I have heard through gossip and rumour."

"When I was at Hogwarts, there was a boy in all of my classes, who shared my dormitory. His name was Tom Riddle, and you knew as soon as you met him that he would one day be a great and powerful man." He hesitated for a moment. "That boy now styles himself as Lord Voldemort and, after spending the past twenty years travelling the world, he looks set to become the most potent and dangerous wizard that has ever lived."

"I don't understand, papa, why you are telling me this."

At long last he turned to face her, his thick brows were furrowed and the look of concern was evident on his face. Bellatrix had never seen her father look that way, and it sent a shiver through her that was a mixture of concern and excitement.

"He is coming here, tomorrow night. For that reason, I...I have been forced to cancel the party. I hope you are not too aggrieved by this; the family is to dine with the Dark Lord instead."

Bellatrix licked her lips.

"I am a little disappointed, papa." She lied. "But I understand."

"Good. Inform your sisters. You are dismissed."

Bellatrix returned to the conservatory, and opened the door to find Andromeda crouched on the floor with tears streaming down her cheeks and Narcissa making pitiful efforts in an attempt to comfort her. Bellatrix rolled her eyes and waved her wand, removing the hex, as she sat down on her seat again. Narcissa rushed over to join her, kneeling on the floor and resting her arms on Bellatrix's lap.

"What did papa say? What happened?"

"My party has been cancelled." Bellatrix stated.

"But why? That's terribly unfair! If I were you, I would be crying and making _such _a fuss."

"Papa wouldn't do such a thing without good reason." Andromeda added bitterly. "You must have done something to deserve it."

"Actually, I have done nothing to warrant a punishment. Lord Voldemort, or the _Dark Lord _as papa referred to him, is to dine with us tomorrow evening instead." Narcissa's eyes widened, and she gave a small laugh.

"Oh, Lucius shall be terribly envious. He and his silly friends say that they're going to join his ranks when they finish Hogwarts, become one of his followers – whatever that means!"

"It isn't something to envy." Andromeda retorted. "Don't either of you know anything about him? They say he is a master of the Dark Arts, that he has done terrible things that don't bear thinking about, never mind saying them aloud. Apparently, he calls his followers _Death Eaters_." Andromeda shuddered and Narcissa gave a nervous giggle, but Bellatrix remained impassive.

"He seems interesting." She said quietly. "Papa seemed almost frightened of him – he must be something special if he has the ability to scare even Cygnus Black."

"I don't think I want to sit at a table with this man, and pretend as if we're in polite company." Andromeda hissed.

"Well you don't have a choice, do you?" Bellatrix retorted, turning to look at her sister and raising an eyebrow. "For he shall be arriving tomorrow night."

The next evening, Bellatrix sat in front of the mirror in her bedroom and inspected her reflection. She knew that she was by no means what one would describe as being pretty. Her eyes were too heavy, her lips too full and, no matter how hard mama tried, her hair was wild and untameable. Much, her mother would also say, like Bellatrix herself. She wore a dress of white lace that had been chosen for her for the party; she is pure, innocent, virginal, ripe for the picking...that's what it announced to the world. Bellatrix gave a sigh and picked up the brush, sweeping a thin sheen of pink blusher to the apples of her cheeks. But, no matter how many different types of cosmetics she applied to her face, her sisters always bemoaned that she was too pale. Bellatrix preferred it that way – she had no desire to become a painted doll. A knock on the door announced that her sisters and mother were waiting outside. It was time to greet their guest.

The dining room was finely decorated with lilies and dozens of candles, and even Bellatrix could not prevent a smile at the sight of such a beautiful room. The house elf directed them to their seats, and Bellatrix felt her stomach flip as she realised that there was an empty seat to her right, opposite her mother.

"Shall Lord Voldemort sit beside me?" She hissed at the house elf, who whimpered slightly.

"Yes, Miss Bellatrix, yes he shall." She smirked triumphantly at her sisters, but Narcissa was too busy looking behind her at the door through which he would no doubt enter, and Andromeda simply sneered.

At that moment the door opened, and Cygnus Black entered the room with Lord Voldemort behind him. Bellatrix bit her lip as she watched the stranger approach the dining table. She had not really formed an opinion of how she thought he might look, but she was a little taken aback by his appearance. In a rare moment of honesty, her mother had told her that she had found Tom Riddle quite handsome at Hogwarts, that all the girls had. Bellatrix supposed that she could certainly envisage that he had once been so, but he was certainly not now; his eyes seemed sunken, his cheeks hollow, and his skin almost deathly pale. But he was tall, his posture firm, and Bellatrix would have described his as striking. She jumped a little when he turned his head to look at her, and saw that his eyes were a dark brown; she had, rather ridiculously, been expecting something more shocking, like emerald green or sapphire red...

He stood behind the seat next to her and, with a bow from her father, they all sat down. Bellatrix waited tensely for some form of introduction to be made, but only felt disappointment as he turned away from her and began a hushed conversation with her father. The rest of the meal passed that way, her mother making lazy conversation with the girls as Cygnus and Lord Voldemort whispered about things that were evidently too private to be made known to the rest of the party. Bellatrix finished her desert of crème brulée with a satisfied sigh, and put down her spoon with a strong desire that the meal would end and she could go elsewhere in the house to read. What she had imagined to be an interesting first introduction to the supposed most powerful man in the world had simply been, well, disappointing. Suddenly, however, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Lord Voldemort picked up his wine glass and tapped it with the edge of his spoon. He stood to his feet.

"I am aware that my presence here has meant the ruin of young Miss Bellatrix Black's birthday celebrations, and for that I wish to make amends. Shall we raise our glasses in a toast to Bellatrix? Happy birthday." He lifted his glass, before taking a sip, and the rest of the family did the same. Bellatrix had never been inclined towards girlish blushing, but she felt her cheeks burning red, and was aware that the flush extended down her neck. When he sat down he turned to face her, and Bellatrix licked her lips nervously. She could feel the eyes of her family fixed upon her as the Dark Lord produced a long and narrow green box. "This is a further token of apology and congratulations."

Bellatrix took the box from him and, willing her hands to stop shaking, carefully untied the silver ribbon that was tied around it. Her mother let out a small gasp when she removed the lid, revealing the most beautiful piece of jewellery that Bellatrix had ever seen. It was a plain silver chain, but at the bottom was a skull made entirely of small emeralds, with a winding snake erupting from its open mouth. She tentatively reached out her index finger and stroked the surface of the skull, enjoying the feel of the bumps beneath the pad of her fingertip.

"Thank you." She said quietly, turning her head slightly to look at him. "It is beautiful."

"You are very generous, my Lord." Her father said, bowing his head slightly.

"You have shown a great honour to our daughter." Her mother added.

After dinner, they did not conform to the usual custom of separating for tea or brandy. Instead, they all retired together to the drawing room, where Andromeda took her usual seat at the piano, and everyone else was left to make idle small-talk. Bellatrix opened the window slightly and sat on the windowsill, closing her eyes and feeling the cool breeze brush across her face and ruffle her hair. She was lost in her own thoughts, until someone cleared their throat. She jumped a little and opened her eyes, turning to see Lord Voldemort standing by her. She licked her lips nervously as he smirked down at her.

"My apologies, Bellatrix, for startling you. I am often told that I approach too quietly, that I catch people unaware." She did not know what to say, and so simply remained silent. This did not seem to bother Lord Voldemort, for he continued speaking. "So you are twenty one, Bellatrix? Young people such as yourself usually have a head full of schemes for the future. May I be so bold as to ask what yours are?"

"I have none." She answered frankly. "What is the point, when my parents intend to have me marry some bumbling idiot and then spend the rest of my life having babies and indulging the little brats?"

Bellatrix felt her heart soar when he laughed; a true, honest laugh at something she had said. She was uncertain as to why, but she felt it most important that she impress this man. If her father hadn't already told her that he was powerful, Bellatrix was certain she would be able to tell anyway. You could feel it radiating from him, filling the very room. Bellatrix was sure that he could destroy the drawing room, the whole house maybe, with the tiniest flick of his wand. The very idea almost took her breath away.

"I have never been fond of the idea of marriage myself." Lord Voldemort replied, looking at her carefully. "But then, I am lucky to have never been under the thumb of overbearing parents. Your sisters, may I note, do not seem so disenchanted with the idea."

"No, but I daresay that neither of _them_ have the mind or the soul to desire anything other than what they have had presented to them on a silver platter." A silence fell between them, and Bellatrix was acutely aware that he was inspecting her closely; what he was looking for, she could not be certain, but he narrowed his eyes as if he had found it.

"Your father is a stubborn man, Bellatrix, but I need someone like him to assist me. Do you think you would be able to persuade him?"

"Papa...Papa is not a man to be persuaded, especially not by his daughter." His dark eyes met hers and, for one moment, Bellatrix was certain that they had flashed red. But the moment had passed, and she told herself to stop being ridiculous.

"I had thought as much." Voldemort gave her a predatory smirk. "But what of you, Bellatrix? Do you think that _you _could be persuaded?"

Bellatrix felt as if she would never move again, as if she were cursed to remain frozen in that one posture for the rest of her life. She could feel her hands trembling, and felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment wash over her. She knew that he could sense what he was doing to her, that he maybe had even intended to cause this.

"Papa would...disapprove." She muttered. He gave a bitter laugh, before leaning close to her, so that it face was but inches from hers.

"And do you always do what mama and papa say_, Bella_?"

Almost as soon as he had spoken, he straightened up again and Bellatrix realised that he was holding the box containing the necklace. She could see her mother and father watching her from across the room, frozen just as she was; Narcissa watched too, a look of envy on her face, but Andromeda looked as if she wanted to flee. Lord Voldemort opened the box and slowly removed the necklace, holding it up for a moment so that the emeralds glittered in the candlelight. He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he leant forwards and fastened the necklace around her neck, dragging his hands across it and letting them rest there for a moment, as if he was about to strangle her. After a moment that felt like forever to Bellatrix, he let go and turned swiftly on his heels, giving a small bow to her father and mother before leaving the room entirely. Even though he had gone, his presence was still very much felt in the room, it was almost tangible, and the necklace weighed heavily around Bellatrix's neck, brushing against the pale skin of her throat as if he had burned the very flesh of it.


	2. Two

_A/N: Just a warning, there is some animal cruelty in this chapter. It is something I find disgusting, and something I certainly do not condone!  
><em>

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><p><em>July 1972.<em>

"And he came here? He came here specifically?"

"Yes. He wrote to me just the day before – I did not have the choice to refuse him, of course."

It was a fortnight since Lord Voldemort had dined at the manor, and yet it was as if his presence still lingered in the very furniture of the house. Bellatrix was led outside in the gravel, beneath the window of her father's study, with her chin resting on her hands. Abraxas Malfoy had come to the house, and Bellatrix had not waited a moment before trying to find a way to listen in on their conversation. She was not disappointed, despite the discomfort and the risk she ran of being discovered. It seemed that the surprise return of Lord Voldemort to Britain was a piece of important news and, if Bellatrix could infer correctly, it appeared that it signalled the beginning of something – of what, however, she could not be certain.

"Did he ask...?"

"No." Her father interrupted. "But I know that it shall only be a matter of time. Yaxley told me himself that he has already agreed to join him, Rosier too..."

"He no doubt has many other recruits that weren't a part of the old Hogwarts crowd, and a long list of those whom he would like to have on his side. You are fortunate that you have no sons, Cygnus; Lucius is seventeen, he shall be leaving Hogwarts in another year, and will no doubt be approached to join him. I will not stop if him he does, but...I dislike the idea."

"I fear, Abraxas, that having daughters is perhaps a worse fate."

Every muscle in Bellatrix's body seemed to tense, she could feel a vein in her temple throbbing as the silence seemed to stretch on endlessly. She watched as a ladybird emerged from out of the pebbles and scuttled across in front of her, before blocking its path with her finger. The ladybird climbed onto her finger and began to pace back and forth along the length of it, as if she too was painfully waiting to hear what else her father had to say.

"Whatever do you mean?" Abraxas said, after what seemed like a decade.

"He brought Bellatrix a gift for her birthday; a rather expensive-looking piece of jewellery, in the shape of a Dark Mark. After dinner, he paid particular attention to her, they spoke with their heads close together and I could not make out what he said."

"With anyone else that would not be particularly unusual, Cygnus – it was supposed to be her birthday celebration, after all."

"I know, my friend, but Lord Voldemort does not buy birthday presents. Lord Voldemort does not make idle conversation – when he talks to someone, there is a reason behind it."

"Do you believe he will use Bellatrix to persuade you?"

"Perhaps, or he may have more dangerous motives. Whatever the reason, I simply hope that he did not manage to make an impression upon Bellatrix. I fear for her, she isn't like her sisters..."

Bellatrix silently shuffled along, until she was out of view from the window, before climbing to her feet. She stood still for a moment, holding her finger up and squinting slightly as the sun glared down on her, watching the ladybird as it crawled across her fingertip. For a moment, she considered squishing it; she imagined the pattern that the blood would make, how sticky it would feel between her fingers. But then she thought against it, and instead pursed her lips and blew, watching as the ladybird flew away.

She hesitated for a moment, before turning abruptly and walking back towards the house, her dragon-hide boots crunching in the gravel. Skipping two of the steps, she leapt into the conservatory, coming to a drastic halt when she saw her father and mother talking together. They looked up when she entered, and her father's features darkened, whilst her mother looked slightly nervous. Bellatrix plucked an apple from a fruit bowl that stood on the side, before folding her arms and leaning against the doorframe. She did not move as her mother's eyes drifted to the bare expanse of her chest, where the necklace that Lord Voldemort had given her led, the jewels glittering in the sun as if mocking her, as if daring her mother to speak.

"Would you excuse us, Cygnus? I would like a few moments alone with Bellatrix." Neither of the women moved as Cygnus passed through the room, closing the door behind him with a loud click. As her mother sat down, Bellatrix bit viciously into the apple, sending a sputter of juice and spittle flying into the air. Her mother winced. "Need you be so ill-mannered?" Bellatrix did not reply, but simply took another bite, wiping the juice from her chin with the back of her hand.

"What did you wish to talk to me about, mama? It must be urgent."

"It is a very serious matter, Bellatrix, and one that I wish you to listen too with as much sincerity and maturity as possible. Do you understand?" Bellatrix gave a curt nod. "Lord Voldemort is a dangerous man with political aspirations; his principal goal is to rid the world of mudbloods and other unsavoury members of our society, an aspiration with which your father and I chiefly agree. However, your father feels that we have a certain...image in society that we wish to uphold, and to actively join Lord Voldemort in his campaign would jeopardise that. We do intend to emphasise our compliance and our agreement, but we will not condone any _active involvement _from anyone in our immediate family. Do you understand?"

Bellatrix had not realised it, but throughout her mother's speech she had slowly dragged her finger along the chain of her necklace, until the large skull was cradled in her hand. She was not aware that her mother had stopped talking until she saw that she was staring at her, her brows furrowed slightly. Bellatrix dropped her hand and licked her lips.

"What does any of that have to do with me?" She said, perhaps a little defensively. "Why would Lord Voldemort be interested in recruiting _me_?" Her mother was taken aback by Bellatrix's honest and open referral to her greatest fear, and it almost seemed as if she looked at her daughter then from a completely new perspective.

"It is just a warning, Bella. We will say the same to your sisters too." But of course Bellatrix knew that this was not the truth, she had heard what her father had said – a part of them feared that something in her, what she could not be exactly sure, had sparked the interest of the Dark Lord. Bellatrix suddenly realised that she was absent-mindedly fiddling with the necklace again, and this time her mother looked almost afraid. "Your father and I would appreciate it if you would return that necklace to Lord Voldemort, Bellatrix. We cannot accept gifts from him."

"No." She replied firmly. "For this necklace wasn't a gift to you and papa, he gave it to _me_. And I shall do as I choose with it."

Bellatrix avoided her parents as much as she could over the next few days, but she knew that they were thinking and talking a great deal about her. Andromeda, who always towed the line, seemed to take great amusement from the fact that their parents were so highly suspicious of her, and took every opportunity to mock her for it. On the other hand, Narcissa was treating the situation as if it were in one of her novels, as if it was simply a scheme that had been created for the purpose of amusing her. Three days after the talk with her mother, Bellatrix led on her bed, her arms and legs spread wide and her eyes fixed upon the elaborate Jacobean ceiling. She followed the pattern slowly, waving her finger in the air in loops and spirals, the scent of her half-drunk Earl Grey wafting over from the bedside table. Bellatrix had always enjoyed her own company, had always revelled in the long hours where her only entertainment were the creations of her imagination. She gave a quiet sigh – the only sound in the room.

Suddenly, the door opened. Narcissa swept into the room, her overly-decorated robes rustling against the carpet. She flopped unceremoniously onto Bellatrix's bed, ignoring the growl of protest from her sister. Bellatrix sat up and scowled at Narcissa, before noticing the large parcel that sat upon her lap. She could clearly see her own name written elegantly upon a folded piece of parchment that was attached to it, but Narcissa did not seem to want to part with it. She simply looked at her sister, a small smile upon her lips and a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

"Darling, dearest Bellatrix, it appears you have received a parcel!" Bellatrix remained silent, knowing better than to bait her younger sister into teasing her more. "Whoever could it be from? Is it a love letter from Walden Macnair? He has _always _been sweet on you! Or perhaps it is something boring, like an order from Madame Malkin's or, worse still, from Flourish and Blotts...?"

"How am I supposed to know who it is from, if I am yet to open the letter?"

Narcissa seemed to see sense, for she gave a short sigh before handing the parcel over to Bellatrix. Her heart was thumping as she removed the folded parchment from the parcel, for Bellatrix had not been expecting a parcel from anyone. She had had very few friends at Hogwarts, and none who would wish to send her anything so bulky, and she had ordered nothing from the shops. It could possibly have been something from Walden Macnair, but he was more inclined to short notes than letters and parcels. Bellatrix flipped over the parchment and saw that the seal was of green was in the shape of a coiled snake; Narcissa shifted to sit next to her, and gasped when she saw the seal. Slowly, Bellatrix picked up her wand and carefully removed the seal, ensuring that she did not destroy it, before unfolding the parchment. The handwriting was fluid and elegant, and it definitely did not belong to Walden Macnair, for there were no smudges or obvious spelling mistakes. Bellatrix licked her lips, before reading the note.

Dear Bellatrix,

When we met many weeks ago, I could sense in you a potential, a potential that I fear has been left to languish in the tedious grounds of your father's country estate. I hope that it is not presumptuous of me, but I have sent you these books in the hope that you will learn something from them. Fill your days with study, train your mind and body, and I do believe that true power shall one day be yours. If you succeed, then I would gladly accept you amongst my ranks, with all of the benefits and freedoms that it offers. If I have misjudged you, and you have no desire to accept my offer, please return the books to me. I am sure that I need not voice this request, but mention none of this to your mother, father or anyone else.

Yours,

L.V

Bellatrix sat still for a moment, her eyes fixed on the last two letters written on the page; she traced, as she had done with the patterned ceiling, the dramatic curve of the 'L' with her eyes, before giving a small sigh. She was abruptly reminded of Narcissa's presence, when her sister jumped forwards and tried to snatch the letter from her.

"What –?"

"Hush." Bellatrix said, swatting away her hand and picking up the parcel. She peeled off the brown paper, and let out a gasp as she removed three ancient-looking tomes. The first was entitled The Dark Arts of the Orient, the second was a title in Russian that she could not understand, and the third was named The Art of Darkness. Bellatrix stroked the spine of the first book, barely able to contain the excitement that seemed to bubble up from her stomach and through to her chest. Whilst she had been distracted with the books, Narcissa had taken the note and was reading it for herself. She looked a little paler than usual, a little overwhelmed.

"Will you do it? Will you learn for him...join him?"

"I don't know." Bellatrix whispered, her eyes fixed on her duvet. She turned to look at her younger sister. "What do you think I should do?" Narcissa looked surprised that she was being considered worthy for giving advice, and fell silent for a moment. She looked uncomfortable, nervous.

"I suppose...Papa and mama want you to marry, but everyone knows you don't want to, that you aren't...you aren't made for a life like that." She sighed. "Do you suppose you'll have to marry if you join him? Do you think he would really offer you the freedom you want?"

"Yes...We spoke about it...when he came here." Bellatrix replied. "I'm going to do it, or at least I shall try. I am going to teach myself everything in these books and then...then I'm going to join him."

"Mama and papa will certainly not approve."

"I know, but in making this decision, I am deciding that they don't have control over me anymore." Bellatrix turned to look at Narcissa. "Will you tell them?"

"No." She answered immediately. "I am serious about Lucius...and Lucius seems serious about joining the Dark Lord when he finishes Hogwarts. No matter how you choose, Lord Voldemort will play a role in the future of our family." Narcissa blushed, but Bellatrix was surprised to see her look so mature, so confident in her words. She showed a rare glimmer of affection and took Narcissa's hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"When did you become so sensible?" Narcissa laughed and stood up, walking towards the door.

"I think I have been spending far too much time around Andromeda, although hopefully I shall stop before I become too much of a bore."

When Bellatrix was alone, she sat still for a few moments, her hand resting atop the pile of books. She turned to look at herself in the mirror, and felt a whole mixture of emotions at the reflection that she saw. Bellatrix was surprised at how diminished and frightened she looked, in her pale green dress with her hair flowing childishly around her shoulders; she looked every inch the pureblood socialite daughter, everything that her mother had been and wanted her to become. Bellatrix picked up her wand and summoned a hair pin, before tangling her hair and fixing it wildly on the top of her head. She then stood and walked over to her wardrobe, waving her wand and removing all of those dresses and robes that she didn't truly like, that she had never wanted to wear. Finally, she pointed her wand at the dress she was wearing, and watched as the soft green melted into a pitch black.

Slowly, she walked over to the bed and picked up the book entitled The Art of Darkness, flipping to the second page before propping it open on the bed. Bellatrix then walked over to the window and opened it wide, she then leaned out and pointed her wand at the ground below.

"_Accio mouse_!" She watched as a mouse was suddenly pulled from amongst the grass, and gently floated towards the window, before she caught it in her hands. She then placed it on the bed, watching as it slowly sniffed the duvet and the books, before stepping backwards and pointing her wand.

Since childhood, Cygnus Black had always been strict with his three daughters. He had always believed in punishing them for even the smallest misdemeanour, and he had never found ordinary punishments sufficient; the withdrawal of enjoyment, sending them to bed early, preventing them from leaving the house...none of those appealed to him. He had always relied on the Cruciatus Curse. For as long as she could remember, Bellatrix had suffered at the hands of her father. She had writhed on the floor, she had begged him to stop, she had cried for hours afterwards, still shaking from the effects of the curse. Bellatrix had always equated the curse with power, with independence, with a control that she had always hoped to have when she was older, when she knew better like papa. And now she did. In fact, Bellatrix was on the brink of knowing more than her father would ever dare to know, would ever to desire to know. And she would start with Cruciatus.

Bellatrix licked her lips and gave a sigh, moving her arm slightly as the mouse clambered on top of one of the books. She knew that with the Unforgivables you had to mean them, and the very memory of her father's punishment was enough to stir that anger in her. She narrowed her dark eyes and focused, before the word escaped from her lips. It was quiet, barely audible, but powerful enough to make the room shake.

"_Crucio_!"

Bellatrix watched as the mouse began to shake; she could see the spasms of its tiny muscles as it writhed around on the bed clothes, screeching and squealing in obvious agony. Bellatrix felt as if there was a flame scorching through her body; her heart hammered, her stomach flipped, and her fingers tingled with the sheer knowledge that she too was powerful. She could finally see in herself the potential that Lord Voldemort had done, and she understood why it was necessary for him to harness it. Stepping backwards slightly, Bellatrix moved her wand again and the mouse fell silent with a jolt. She was convinced that, even though it was so small, she could see the very beating of its heart. Life was such a beautiful thing, Bellatrix had always thought so; muscle and sinew, blood and skin...it amazed her.

She stepped towards the bed and turned the page of the book, quickly looking over the instructions on that page. Before she returned to her spot, she ran her index finger along the back of the mouse, feeling the brush of its fur against her flesh. She stepped back again and pointed her wand, taking a breath.

"_Avada Kedavra_."

Death was better still. That was when life was truly preserved, and she could see that in the now rigid body of the mouse; its eyes were wide, its tail straight and stiff, its fur frozen mid-bristle. It was perfect, and the flash of emerald light reflected in the mouse's eye would never be anything less than beautiful.


	3. Three

_August 1972._

Andromeda slowly pushed open the heavy door of the library, and stepped into the room to the sound of Saint-Saën's Danse Macabre scratchily resounding throughout the bookshelves. She had not been aware that anyone was in the room, knowing that Narcissa had gone to Diagon Alley with her parents, and thinking Bellatrix asleep in her bedroom. Tentatively, she wound her way deeper into the library, before rounding the corner and seeing Bellatrix stood there with the record player by her feet, her wand pointed towards a wild hare that sat on the floor helplessly. Bellatrix jumped when she realised that she was no longer alone, turning slowly to face Andromeda.

"What are you doing?" Andromeda demanded. "What are you doing to that hare?" Bellatrix folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at her sister.

"I don't think that's any of your business." Andromeda stepped forwards and picked up the book that was propped open on the floor, scanning the page in silence for a moment before slamming it shut. She looked at Bellatrix with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, furious with her but yet unable to hide the slightest sensation of fear.

"You're learning the Dark Arts..." Andromeda whispered. "You oughtn't to do this, Bella. Mama and papa have specifically said – "

"You are always so self-righteous!" Bellatrix interrupted angrily. "You always do as mother and father tell you to, never thinking for yourself, never wanting anything other than what they give to you. I'm trying to get something for myself, Andromeda – can't you just try to understand that?"

"But there are other ways to go about this, Bella." She replied beseechingly, stepping towards her sister. She looked as if she was about to say some other comforting words of advice, but Andromeda stopped when she saw the other books piled in the corner. Andromeda frowned. "Where did you get those books, Bella? Papa doesn't have any of those kinds of texts here, and I doubt they stock them at Flourish and Blotts..."

"Lord Voldemort gave them to me." Bellatrix admitted, looking at her sister as if daring her to speak against her. "_He _sees that I have potential, _he _sees that there is more to me than sitting cooped up in this ridiculous house."

"Don't you think he might have another motive, Bella? What would he really want with someone like you? Someone who knows nothing?"

The two months after Lord Voldemort's visit had passed in a slow sort of blur for Bellatrix, as she immersed herself in the secret study of the books that he had sent her. She had applied a charm to them, making them appear to everyone but herself as simple novels, or textbooks on another, acceptable, subjects of study. Narcissa knew what her elder sister was really doing but, much to Bellatrix's surprise, she was true to her word, and had mentioned nothing of it to their parents or Andromeda. And yet suspicion had still hung heavily in the house; more of father's old acquaintances visited, locking themselves away in the study for hours, whilst they no doubt deliberated the meaning of Lord Voldemort's return and the role that Bellatrix had to play. To begin with, she would lie beneath the window and listen in, but Bellatrix soon realised that they knew nothing and had nothing new to say - it was all based on conjecture and guesswork.

Bellatrix had found the content of the books more intriguing and exciting than she had expected to. The Art of Darkness was very much about the traditional types of Dark Arts, the kind that the large pureblood families had been harnessing and learning for centuries; she had become adept at the Unforgivable curses, learnt how to properly use the worst of Dark objects. From The Dark Arts of the Orient, Bellatrix improved her skills in the brewing of Dark potions. She spent hours bent over steaming cauldrons, hidden behind the tall shelves in the library and adding a whole variety of ingredients that she had sneakily stolen from the manor's stores. Bellatrix knew then how to make the most vicious of poisons, how to torturously kill a man by burning him from the very inside out. The Russian book which, with the help of a translation spell, she was finally able to read, taught her the Dark Arts of the mind. It taught her Occlumency and Legilimency, and how to use magic to manipulate the desires and needs of others for her own gain.

Although she found her studies fascinating, there were times when Bellatrix would just stop and truly consider what she was doing. It frightened her, the fact that she had acquired such knowledge and power, the fact that she was capable of killing everyone in the house with just a simple flick of her wand. And yet, she always felt a bristle of excitement too, a fizz of energy that would wash over her when she realised just _how _powerful she was becoming. Sometimes mama would catch her smiling at nothing, simply staring off into the distance with a look of smug satisfaction upon her face. Bellatrix tried to assure her that there was no particular reason behind it, but the suspicion that passed across her mother's face was enough to assure her than her excuses were unconvincing. At that moment, as she stood opposite her sister who told her that she knew nothing, Bellatrix felt the buzz of excitement more so than ever before. She could feel it coursing through her, spreading outwards from her heart until all of her muscles seemed to tremble with sheer energy. Andromeda looked terrified as Bellatrix tossed her head back and gave a hysterical laugh.

"Someone who knows _nothing?_ You have no idea just how very much I know." Bellatrix hissed, gritting her teeth. She pointed her wand at Bellatrix and narrowed her eyes. "_Crucio_!"

Bellatrix gave a gasp as Andromeda fell to the floor with a cry of pain. She wanted to feel remorse for cursing her sister, wanted to pull her wand away as Andromeda began to writhe in agony. But the exhilaration that Bellatrix felt, the pounding of her heart, the tingling of power that surged through her body, prevented her from doing so.

"Please...Bella...please stop!" Andromeda screamed. Instead, she jabbed her wand in the air and the intensity of Andromeda's pain increased. After a few moments, Bellatrix waved her wand and the curse ended. She stepped towards her sister and dropped to her knees, moving her face until it was close to Andromeda's, her sister's panting breath tickling her cheek.

"And that is just the start of what I _do_ know." She spat. "I know more than you could ever imagine."

Bellatrix was convinced that, after her display that afternoon, her secret would no longer remain so. However, she was surprised to find that, when her parents returned to the house, Andromeda did not tell them what had happened; instead, she excused herself with a headache, refused dinner, and went to bed much earlier than she otherwise would have done. Bellatrix too excused herself, but went to the drawing room and opened the writing desk. She was not certain how to go about writing this letter; what did one say to the man who was supposedly the world's most powerful wizard? Bellatrix gave a sigh and grabbed a quill, before writing a few short words, folding the parchment and sealing it with the official Black seal. She clicked her fingers and, with a small pop, the house elf appeared.

"Take this." She said, handing it to the elf. "And ensure that it gets delivered without my parents hearing of it, do you understand?" The elf nodded, before disappearing once more.

A week passed before Bellatrix received a reply. She was sitting in the drawing room with her mother and Narcissa, listening to her sister endlessly repeat the virtues of Lucius Malfoy. They were distracted from their conversation, however, when a large, majestic-looking owl pecked at the glass. After Bellatrix approached and opened the window, it flew in and dropped a folded piece of parchment into Bellatrix's hand; both she and Narcissa recognised the handwriting and the seal immediately. Narcissa stiffened, before jumping up from her seat.

"Mama," She said, turning to her mother. "Would you like to go for a walk? I'm feeling a little tense, having sat here all day..."

Bellatrix was relieved when her mother agreed, and watched as they left the room before tearing open the letter, this time not bothering to try and keep the seal. It was from Lord Voldemort, as she and Narcissa had suspected, and he had agreed to Bellatrix's request for a meeting. He instructed her to come to Borgin and Burkes at midnight, where she would be greeted by a loyal supporter and escorted to the upstairs flat. Bellatrix folded the letter and placed it in her pocket, before resting her hands in her lap. She realised then that she had written to him in haste, in panic, and she had thought that he would have some means of protecting her from the potential wrath of her father. But Andromeda had still not revealed what she knew, and so now she was left without anything real to say. Would he be angry? Would he punish her? He could do anything to her in the shadowy rooms above Borgin and Burkes; he could torture her, he could kill her...and no one would know a thing. Perhaps for the first time, Bellatrix felt a little of the fear that she saw reflected in the faces of her mother and father whenever his face was mentioned.

That night, Bellatrix went to her room under the pretence of going to bed. Instead of sleeping, she sat cross-legged on her bed, her eyes fixed on the face of the carriage clock that stood atop the fireplace opposite. She did not move, did not speak, until quarter to midnight when she slowly stood and walked over to her wardrobe. Putting on a black hooded cloak, she left her room silently and walked along the moonlit corridors. There was something about leaving the house in this way, something about it that made Bellatrix feel as if everything was truly about to change. She knew that, somehow, she was going to return and her life would be different, perhaps one step closer to how she really wanted it to be.

Knockturn Alley was, as Bellatrix had expected it to be, empty of people, except a warty-looking hag who shuffled past as Bellatrix waited outside Borgin and Burkes. She rapped on the closed door three times, looking from left to right for anyone who might have been coming to meet her. After a moment the door opened, and a young man who Bellatrix recognised as Antonin Dolohov stood in the doorway. He sneered, looking Bellatrix up and down, before motioning with his head for her to come in. Instead of leading her up the stairs as had been said in the letter, Dolohov simply turned to face her and passed her a scroll. She scowled, before unravelling it. It was another letter from Lord Voldemort, apologising for his absence. He would not be meeting her that night. She looked up from the letter, to see Dolohov leaning against the counter with a smirk on his face.

"The Dark Lord has more pressing business than to meet with a little chit like you tonight. But he did ask me to check how you're getting along." He drawled. Dolohov stepped forwards and placed his hands on Bellatrix's waist, snaking them down over her hips. "Looks like everything's in order to me...The Dark Lord certainly knows how to choose his whores."

Without hesitating for a moment, Bellatrix spun around to face him and jabbed her wand at his throat. She cast a non-verbal curse that, according to the book she had read it in, would make him feel as if sharp pins were being slid in and out of every pore of his body. He screamed in pain, falling backwards onto the floor, kicking and flailing his legs. Bellatrix smirked and waved her wand again, removing the spell for just one moment, before hitting him with another.

"_Crucio_!" Dolohov began to yell again, but Bellatrix only increased the intensity of the spell. Eventually, she waved her wand and the curse came to an end.

"You're bloody _insane_." He hissed, unable to stand from his position on the floor. "What did you do that for?"

"_Never_ touch me again." She barked angrily. "And tell the Dark Lord...tell the Dark Lord what I did to you, what I'm capable of now."

When Bellatrix returned home, she went to her bedroom with an unexpected feeling of dejection. She was miserable, furious even, that he had clearly not deemed her important enough to meet, in spite of the letter that he had sent her. Wasn't she doing what he asked of her? With a frustrated growl, Bellatrix pulled open the top drawer and grabbed the last letter that he had sent her. She looked at the handwriting for one last moment, before tearing it into tiny pieces, then finally pointing her wand and watching as they went up in a flash of smoke.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Saint-Saën's Danse Macabre is a beautiful piece of music; I think the sound of it and the history of it fits perfectly with my image of Bellatrix. Give it a listen. Please review this chapter and let me know what you think!_


	4. Four

_December 1972._

Mid-December saw the weather turn, and the grounds of the estate were covered in a lush blanket of thick, white snow. Bellatrix sat inside with her forehead against the glass of the window, watching as the flakes gracefully floated down from the sky. She had never been fond of snow, had never joined her sisters in a snowball fight and could not see the appeal of building a snow man; snow covered the ugly things, buried them away. Bellatrix had always believed it better to show your scars. If she had to choose weather that she preferred, Bellatrix would have chosen the rain. She liked to watch it bounce when the raindrops hit the ground; she liked the way the world smelled when the rain had gone. It was clean, fresh – like you could start anew once more. Bellatrix gave a sigh and turned to watch Narcissa rifling through her wardrobe, ordering the house elf which of her gowns she wished to pack.

It was Christmas Eve, and the entire family was going to London to stay with Aunt Walburga at Grimmauld Place. Bellatrix loathed their house; it was small and cramped, every spare space crammed with some object or another. At least at the manor house there was space, the rooms were airy and bright, and the grounds were extensive. Bellatrix also disliked the company of her two younger cousins; Sirius was rebellious, loud and obnoxious, and Regulus asked an endless stream of questions. A lot of the time, Bellatrix found herself wishing that Aunt Walburga would send them both to bed, or that she could swat them around the head herself and teach them to behave. Bellatrix would have preferred to stay at home; Christmas had always been lovely at the manor, with the beautiful big Christmas tree in the conservatory and the comforts that staying at home brought.

They arrived at the house and greeted their family warmly with embraces and well-wishes. Bellatrix even managed to summon a smile for Sirius, who slouched over and handed her a glass of champagne. Aunt Walburga was, as ever, full of gossip about one pureblood family or another, and was eager to share it with Bellatrix's mother as soon as she could. Narcissa was just as keen to hear it, and grabbed her aunt's arm.

"Tell me, aunt, have you heard anything else about the Greengrasses? I heard there was a terrible public row in Diagon Alley just last week."

"Oh that there was, Cissy, that there was! You've never seen anything like it! Delphine was shrieking and hitting Hyperion with her handbag; it was _quite _the spectacle. You would think that Delphine would be more ladylike, what with coming from a long line of Veela!"

"Indeed!" Bellatrix's mother said, whilst Narcissa looked almost gleeful. Andromeda gave a bored sigh, and took up Regulus' eager offer of a game of chess.

"But," Walburga continued, a smug smirk on her face, "it is _we _who are to be the subject of gossip amongst the pureblood circles this week! You will never guess who is to dine with us tomorrow."

Bellatrix saw her father suddenly tense, and he turned slightly to look at his sister, who was grinning at her nieces with unbridled delight.

"Who?" He asked firmly. "Walburga, who have you invited?"

"Oh I didn't invite _him_, Cygnus dear, he invited himself! Lord Voldemort! Can you quite believe it? It is rather something, what with me being a widow and the boys too young to even be considered for his little group. I do think it might have something to do with you being here, but I'm flattered all the same."

"He has been trying to recruit me these past months – you oughtn't to have accepted him, Walburga." Everyone sat in silence as the room grew tense. Walburga ushered Sirius and Regulus from the room, sending them sternly to bed, before turning to face her brother again.

"You know what happens to those who refuse, don't you Cygnus? I have heard all sorts of things, all kinds of threats...your life could be in danger if you continue to refuse."

"Perhaps it won't come to that." Narcissa blurted, looking shiftily at Bellatrix. "Perhaps he'll make an exception..."

"Why won't you join them, Cygnus?" Walburga demanded. "We all agree with him; we want the mudbloods and the muggles put back in their proper places as much as he does, we want the honour of pureblood society restored. In this instance you are simply...putting your name publicly to the cause."

"Can you not comprehend the risks? The first priority in my life, Walburga, is my family, not my politics. The path he will go down is a dangerous one, and one of which I wish to have no part."

"What about a small monetary donation to the cause? Any display of support would be appreciated by them, I am sure."

"And will be dragged up out of the gutter if they fail. I wish to play no public role in this, do you understand?"

"You are a fool then." Walburga hissed. "You will get yourself killed. I only hope that, if the question is put to your daughters, they have more sense."

"My daughters have already been made aware of where our family stands on this matter, and I will tolerate no defiance."

Bellatrix looked up to see both Andromeda and Narcissa staring at her, and she quickly looked away again, in the hope that Aunt Walburga did not notice. If she discovered what Bellatrix had been up to, then her father would discover the truth in no time.

That night, Bellatrix was just about to climb into bed in the guestroom, when there was a quiet knock on the door. She opened it to find Narcissa standing there in her nightgown, and hurriedly ushered her inside before their parents or aunt could hear. Narcissa perched on the end of the bed as Bellatrix climbed beneath the duvet, resting her head against the pillow and letting her black hair fan out, in stark contrast with the white of the pillow.

"Why do you think papa is so against supporting Lord Voldemort? It makes little sense to me." Narcissa whispered.

"I don't know." Bellatrix replied. "But Aunt Walburga was quite of the opposite opinion."

"Yes. At least we know we can rely on her support when...if..." Narcissa bit her lip and fell silent.

"Narcissa..." Bellatrix whispered, wringing the duvet in her hands. "I am afraid of seeing Lord Voldemort tomorrow."

"Why? Do you regret your decision?"

"No...But I am afraid that he may regret his." She explained what had happened when she thought she was going to meet him, and Narcissa narrowed her eyes.

"Bella...is there something else? Something besides all of this...joining him nonsense?"

"Like what?" Bellatrix asked, frowning. Narcissa shook her head slightly.

"It doesn't matter. Get some sleep...it's Christmas in the morning."

Bellatrix could not focus properly on the morning's festivities. Instead, her mind whirred with speculations and questions; her stomach was full of butterflies, her heart thumped loudly. She could not even appreciate the exchange of gifts, for she was too confused as to what would happen that evening. At around five, the whole family sat in the drawing room. Andromeda was led on her stomach in front of the fireplace, her head buried in a new book, whilst Aunt Walburga slowly brushed through Narcissa's long hair with a new ivory comb. Papa and mama were whispering in the corner, and Bellatrix watched as Sirius and Regulus played a rather raucous game of Exploding Snape. Suddenly, the sounds of the doorbell rang out around the house, and everyone in the room stiffened. Andromeda stood and moved to sit in the chair, Aunt Walburga put away the comb, and Cygnus and Druella instantly ended their conversation. Only Bellatrix and the boys remained where they were; Bellatrix's head was bent, so she could not see as their guest was invited into the room. She heard him speak, however.

"Good evening, and a merry Christmas to you all."

"It is a pleasure to have you here as our guest, Lord Voldemort." Aunt Walburga said obsequiously.

"I am pleased to be here. It is always a joy to spend time amongst old acquaintances, is it not?" Bellatrix still did not tear her eyes away from the game, despite the fact that the boys had long since stopped playing. They both stared in awe at the powerful man who had just entered the room. She listened as he moved further into the room. "Cygnus, Druella, a pleasure to see you again. Your daughters, I see, are looking as lovely as ever."

"Thank you." Bellatrix heard Narcissa say, and she could detect a blush in her sister's voice. She listened intently as he moved again, and felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle as his voice was dangerously close to her ear.

"And who do we have here? I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting these gentlemen."

"My name is Sirius, and this is my younger brother Regulus."

"And you are treating your cousin Bellatrix to a game of Exploding snap, I see. How do we think she is finding it?"

Bellatrix realised that she could no longer hide from him, and she turned her head to look up at him. In spite of the fact that everyone was keenly watching her, Bellatrix could not prevent herself from gasping. He looked worse than the last time she had seen him; he looked hollower, more worn, as if something was gradually chipping away at him. And yet, there was something about him that made her heart beat wildly; just standing close to him made her feel drunk, as if the room would never stop spinning.

"I don't like Exploding Snap." She whispered. A wave of embarrassment washed over her as he smirked mockingly, and she wanted nothing more than to run from the room in shame. Why had she said something so terribly juvenile, something that was bound to be of so little consequence to such a man as him? Bellatrix bit her lip to prevent it from wobbling, and looked behind him to see her Aunt Walburga watching them. She had that glimmer in her eye, the glint that told Bellatrix that she could see what else was at work there, and she knew what only Narcissa had guessed at the previous night. Walburga's glee almost threatened to burst out from her when Lord Voldemort reached out his hand and lifted the necklace that Bellatrix wore around her neck. It was an odd decision for, for the first time since he had given it to her, Bellatrix had chosen not to wear the Dark Mark necklace. Instead, she wore a simple pendant that her mother had once given her – a sapphire in the shape of a teardrop. No one spoke, until Bellatrix found a sudden confidence in herself. She stepped back slightly, pulling the necklace from his grip. "Aunt Walburga, is dinner almost ready? I'm famished."

They ate in the small dining room next door, and Bellatrix was relieved to find that she was not sat near Lord Voldemort. Once again, however, he sat near her father, and they talked together for the entire meal. It was not lost on anyone, though, that he turned to look at Bellatrix several times throughout the meal; he seemed to look amused, as if Bellatrix were telling a joke or doing something ridiculous. She _felt _ridiculous, and it was only made worse by the fact that she was not sure why exactly she should. As dessert was being served Aunt Walburga, who was sat next to Bellatrix, leant over and whispered in her ear.

"I think my dear brother has a little more to worry about than you wanting to join the Death Eaters, doesn't he?"

"I do not know what you're referring to." Bellatrix whispered back.

"Don't play coy with me, child. I am an old woman, I know what a young girl with an infatuation looks like."

"You know nothing." Bellatrix retorted, feeling her cheeks flush red when she realised that he was watching her. She cleared her throat and stood up suddenly, causing the house elf who was serving the desert to jump. "May I be excused, papa?" Her father nodded, and Bellatrix turned on her heel and left the room.

In the hope that no one would discover her there, Bellatrix went to her aunt's bedroom. She realised that it was an invasion of her privacy, but Bellatrix felt no remorse after the embarrassing way she had carried on at the dinner table. The room was ridiculously decorated; it was dark and miserable, and various kinds of stuffed bird were on display on almost every empty surface. Bellatrix flopped onto the chair in front of the dressing table, and looked at her reflection. She knew why Lord Voldemort looked different every time she saw him, for she could see a similar change in her own appearance, only much more subtle. It was the Dark Magic; it was as if it eroded away any purity that you might once have had. Bellatrix sighed and buried her head in her arms, giving a blustery sigh. What was she doing? Was it what Narcissa and her Aunt Walburga both suspected? Was this interest in Lord Voldemort more than an intellectual pursuit, or a means of escape? She knew it was, but she couldn't bring herself to admit it, not even in the privacy of her own mind.

Suddenly, the door behind her opened, and Bellatrix jolted upright. She had expected to see her Aunt Walburga there but, instead, it was Lord Voldemort. He shut the door behind him, and Bellatrix watched him approach in the mirror. He stopped just behind her.

"I hope you do not object to my interruption."

"Not at all." Bellatrix replied quietly. "Was dinner to your satisfaction?"

"Indeed. The meal was a credit to your aunt. I hope, Bellatrix, that you were not too disgruntled when you found only Dolohov at Borgin and Burkes."

"I had hoped to address you directly." She admitted. "But I felt that my meeting with Antonin delivered my message adequately."

"Quite." He replied with a smirk. "He told me in vivid detail what you did; treatment, I do not doubt, he deserved."

"Yes. I hope he knows now that I am not be trifled with – I am not a plaything."

"Most certainly not." They fell silent for a moment. "I am glad, Bellatrix, that you are learning from the books I gave you. I wonder if you are still willing to join me, now that you are more aware of what that entails...now that your father has made it perfectly clear that he will not support me."

Bellatrix turned then to face him, looking up and allowing her eyes to make contact with his. She licked her lips and gave a small sigh, before nodding slowly.

"I want to join." She said forcefully. "I will do anything to serve you."

She was not certain why, even as she said those words. Why did she find herself so attracted to this strange man, so willing to do whatever he bade her? He was powerful and he was dangerous; he represented everything that her parents did not want, and everything that she was desperate to have. She could not resist him; she did not want to even try. She gasped when he reached out and placed an index finger by her eye, before dragging it down her cheek, giving her bottom lip a gentle flick with his thumb as his hand passed. He smirked.

"You will be quite spectacular, quite unlike any other among my Death Eater ranks." His voice was softer than she had heard it before, less threatening and more seductive. But when he spoke again it was gone, and his ordinary tone of voice returned. "You will have to prove yourself before I can make you a Death Eater. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes. I need only know the time and the place."

"I shall write to you to inform you of both." He replied quietly. "And in the meantime, I have more study for you." He reached into the inside pocket of his robe, and Bellatrix was surprised when he produced a scroll tied with a black ribbon. She took it from him.

"What is this?"

"A collection of my own, personal creations. There are very few who have been awarded such an honour...in fact, you are the only one. Learn these, Bellatrix, and one day you shall be as feared and as celebrated as I am."

They returned to the drawing room, Bellatrix a little flushed, but Voldemort appearing as collected as ever. Everyone else had dispersed, but Walburga remained. She stood when they entered, and gently put down her glass of mulled wine.

"We had wondered where you had got to." Walburga said to Bellatrix, before turning to Voldemort. "I hope she has not been bothering you."

"On the contrary. I find Miss Bellatrix's conversation quite intriguing. I must beg my leave of you, Walburga, if you will forgive me."

"Of course, of course, certainly! It has been a pleasure."

"Indeed, and I thank you." He turned to Bellatrix and gave a curt bow. "I shall write soon."

Walburga saw him to the door, before returning moments later with a greedy smile on her face. Bellatrix sat in front of the fire, helping herself to brandy and sipping it with a satisfied sigh.

"Well, well, well..." Aunt Walburga said. "Your father must surely not know about _this_!"

"Perhaps this conversation might be easier, aunt, if you tell me what you believe is taking place." Bellatrix stated with a sigh.

"Well, you are besotted with the man; no doubt ready to sign on the dotted line and join his gang of devotees, hm? And he is no less delighted with you, make no mistake! Why, he behaves as if he owns you already! You will be the first woman he has recruited, you know, and I wonder if you will soar through the ranks and sit on his right hand side?" For a moment, Bellatrix wanted to maintain composed, but she could not hold it in. She let out an uncharacteristic giggle, placing a hand over her mouth as if to contain her glee. She knew that she was behaving like Narcissa; the same kind of behaviour that she usually mocked or ridiculed.

"Do you really think I could?" Bellatrix asked, in hushed tones as if speaking such ambitions aloud would taint them. "Could I really go so far?"

"Undoubtedly! He may be a Dark Wizard, he may be powerful, but he is still a man. And a man's downfall will always be a woman, Bellatrix, make no mistake." Bellatrix stood and walked over to her aunt, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Will you support me? Will you stand against papa with me when I join them?"

"Of course." Aunt Walburga replied. "Your father is not thinking straight, but he shall soon change his mind. Oh my girl, how high we shall climb, what lofty heights you shall lift the Black family to!"

"Yes." Bellatrix replied, giggling again. "I only hope that we are never dragged back down again."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I like the idea of Walburga Black being a deliciously morally ambiguous sort of figure - the type who always want to be on the winning side. Also, I drew inspiration from The Other Boleyn Girl in this chapter. I was thinking of Bellatrix as an Anne Boleyn type figure who wants to claw her way to the throne because of the pushy attitude of her family. Let me know what you think!_


	5. Five

_June 1973._

The joy of their familial rise to greatness was short-lived. The hours turned into days, days into weeks and weeks into months, and Bellatrix still did not hear anything from Voldemort. She focused all of her energy on learning the spells that he had instructed her to, but she could not shake the disappointment or the impatience that sometimes threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to throw something or to shake someone, anything to air her frustration. At the end of every week, however, Bellatrix received a short missive from her Aunt Walburga. The letters were chiefly full of gossip she had heard about Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but they always contained probing questions too, about how she was looking after herself and what she was doing, and sometimes Walburga even sent her gifts - new dresses, perfume, jewellery...It embarrassed Bellatrix that her aunt was treating her as if she were the mistress of Voldemort, as if it were her physical attributes that she would contribute to the Death Eaters and not her prowess in the Dark Arts. Even as she snorted derisively at the very idea, Bellatrix could not help but feel a stir of fear that that might be true.

One morning in May, Bellatrix came down the stairs to breakfast to find her father with his head bent over the newspaper, her mother sat by his side with a concerned expression on her face. Bellatrix sat down and helped herself to fruit, ignoring the feeling of her father's eyes boring into the top of her head. After a moment, her father slammed the newspaper onto the table, causing the bowls and cups to rattle precariously. He looked around at his family, who all seemed to have frozen mid-action.

"You see," Cygnus barked, "this is what this man is reducing our society to – mindless violence, needless murder."

"What has happened, darling?" Druella asked tentatively.

"He has launched his first major attack. The Death Eaters invaded a muggle village in Yorkshire; killing two whole families and torturing the rest. There is a picture of the Dark Mark."

Bellatrix jumped slightly as her father threw the newspaper in her direction, catching it clumsily. She turned to the front page and looked at the picture, her stomach flipping as she watched the emblem that she wore around her neck hovering above a small cottage. After flicking through the article, Bellatrix folded the newspaper and placed it gently on the table.

"He is only doing what others do not have the guts to do." Bellatrix said quietly, looking her father squarely in the eye. She watched as his face flushed red.

"Ah yes." He spat. "You would say that; our very own Death Eater in the making. Oh yes, your Aunt Walburga divulged your little secret – she never did know how to keep her mouth shut."

"Is this true, Bella?" Her mother asked. "Do you really intend to join him?"

"Of course she does." Andromeda interrupted angrily. "She gave me a personal demonstration of just how much she intends to join him – the Cruciatus curse, I can only presume, is just the start of your new repertoire."

Bellatrix leapt to her feet and pulled out her wand, before she had even had the time to really consider it. Her mother looked at her, horrified, her father with an expression of sheer disappointment, Andromeda with hatred. Bellatrix knew that only Narcissa stood by her, but it was no good to her when she was miles away at Hogwarts, and she wondered how long it would last; what if things did not last with Lucius Malfoy, would she be as supportive then? Her family looked at her blankly, clearly waiting for some kind of response. What did they want from her? A staunch denial, a promise not to continue, outcry and disappointment at the true nature of the path on which she was about to embark? Bellatrix could offer them none of these things – it would have been a lie. Instead, she turned to face her father properly, licked her lips, and took a breath.

"I am doing this, papa." She said firmly. "I have made my decision." And with that, she turned and left the room.

The next three months at the manor were cold and unkind for Bellatrix. The only communication she had was exchanging letters with her Aunt Walburga and, initially, with Narcissa, until she finished her Hogwarts education and returned for the summer. Bellatrix could have tolerated being ignored, being vilified, if she had been initiated into Voldemort's ranks, or even if she had just received a letter from him. But he was still yet to contact her. As each week passed, she read articles in The Daily Prophet – there were fresh attacks, disappearances attributed to him, picture after picture of the Dark Mark hovering in blackened skies – but she was still not yet a part of it. On the rare occasion that she and her father would cross paths, he would look at her with a kind of mocking satisfaction, as if to say "You are so dedicated to him that you will isolate yourself from your family, and yet he does not even seem to remember your existence". When that happened, Bellatrix would tear off into the nearby forest and hex or curse anything she laid her eyes on, shouting and yelling, anything to release her tension.

It arrived in a haze, but soon it was the middle of June and approaching Bellatrix's birthday once more. That morning, she awoke just as the sun was about to rise, and went downstairs. After getting pastries and tea from the kitchen, she went to the front of the house and sat on the steps, staring out at the manicured lawns and watching the sun rise over the hill in the distance. After a short while, the gate at the bottom creaked open, and Bellatrix watched as her younger sister walked slowly towards the house. Dressed in her finest clothing, her blonde hair shining in the orange light, and the morning mist that lingered, Narcissa looked like some kind of fairy. She smiled when she saw Bellatrix and sat next to her, resting her head on her older sister's shoulder. Bellatrix reached round and gently stroked her hair. Narcissa sighed.

"How was it?" Bellatrix asked.

"Exactly how I had hoped it would be." Narcissa had been to a ball at Malfoy Manor the night before; an evening which had been greatly anticipated by everyone in the Black family. Bellatrix could hear the smile in her sister's voice.

"Did he do it?"

"Yes." Narcissa whispered. "He got down on one knee and proposed in front of everyone. Lucius and I are engaged to be married." Bellatrix shifted her arm and placed it around her sister, hugging her tightly as Narcissa laughed.

"Congratulations. I still think you are a little young, but I know how besotted you both are."

Narcissa moved back, in order to be able to look her sister in the eye.

"He spoke to Lord Voldemort about me, and he gave his approval. But..." Narcissa looked nervous for a moment. "But I know that mama and papa would not give _theirs _if they knew that Lucius had aspirations with the Death Eaters...and so the Dark Lord has permitted him to take the Dark Mark only after we are married."

"I'm glad for you." Bellatrix replied honestly, although inside her heart was thumping. "When do you plan to marry?"

"Some time next year, I think." Narcissa wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. "I cannot wait to tell mama. She will be so terribly excited."

"Cissy...Lord Voldemort...was he at the ball?"

"Yes." Narcissa replied, opening the small bag that she carried. She pulled out a parchment envelope and handed it to Bellatrix. "He requested that I give this to you."

Bellatrix hungrily tore open the envelope, sending a small object flying out and tumbling down the stairs. She left it there as she scrambled with another folded piece of parchment, ignoring the furious shaking of her hands. Bellatrix laughed aloud as she read the note, feeling almost hysterical, and she was light-headed and a little dizzy. She turned to Narcissa with a smile.

"I am to meet him tonight...it is my turn to prove myself." She jumped up and ran down the few steps, picking up the small object that had fallen out. It was a silver spoon, and was a Portkey that would take Bellatrix to a secret location at exactly 11:30pm. She was already beside herself with excitement and curiosity, and she stared at the spoon as if willing it to take her away at that very moment.

"What do you think he shall ask you to do?" Narcissa asked.

"I don't know. It could be anything, I suppose." She fiddled with the hem of her dressing gown. "I only hope that I succeed."

"He must be confident that you will not fail." Narcissa replied. "Tell me...Bellatrix...is there something more to all of this...do you...are you...?"

"Yes." Bellatrix bowed her head, trying desperately to hide the blush that spread across her cheeks. "It is ridiculous, I know, to be attracted to such a peculiar man, and one whom is old enough to be my father at that. I cannot quite even explain why. He is just so...powerful...so charismatic. I feel a draw that I cannot fight against." Narcissa sighed and took her sister's hand, squeezing it gently.

"Do you believe that he could ever reciprocate?"

"I daren't even imagine it. The very thought sends such a thrill through my bones, and yet a shudder of fear." Bellatrix's eyes met Narcissa's, and she felt an overwhelming impulse to be truly frank with her. "It...It scares me, Narcissa, that I know that he will somehow be the death of me. And yet there is nothing else I want more."

"I am afraid for you." Narcissa whispered, her eyes swimming with silvery tears. Bellatrix simply shook her head.

"Don't be. There's nothing you nor I nor anyone can do now that will change my mind. This is the bed I have made, and I suppose that there is nothing for me but to lie in it."

That night, Bellatrix followed the instructions detailed to her in Voldemort's most recent note. She wore a plain black dress, and a black robe with a hood, before leaving the safety of the manor's grounds and waiting in the lane with the spoon in her hand. At 11:30, it glowed a bright sapphire colour, and Bellatrix felt the familiar tug behind her navel as the Portkey was activated. She arrived in her destination moments later, and was surprised to find herself at the edge of a forest. Her senses told her that there was magic nearby, the air prickled with the energy of it, and she followed her instinct into the forest. After walking for ten minutes or so, she stepped into a clearing, in which stood three hooded figures. Bellatrix identified one of them as Voldemort immediately; he towered above the others, and it was obvious that the source of the magic in the air was him alone. He turned as she approached.

"Bella, welcome." She shivered at his use of her nickname. As she grew closer, she could see that a young woman was sat on a chair, bound and gagged. She struggled, her eyes wide, and made grunting noises as if pleading with them to let her go. Bellatrix looked away from her, fixing her eyes upon Voldemort, for she feared that her nerve was not as strong as she had hoped. "You see here your task for this evening."

"Who...who is she?" Bellatrix asked.

"A mudblood girl who happened to have strayed out of safety this evening. Look closer, perhaps you recognise her?" Bellatrix did as he instructed, and let out a small gasp.

"It's Augusta Maddox." She whispered. "She was in my year at Hogwarts. Hufflepuff, I think."

"Correct on all three counts. Mulciber, Nott. Stand back." The two men scurried backwards, leaving only Bellatrix and Voldemort standing in front of Augusta. He turned to Bellatrix. "Your task for this evening, Bella, is to torture Augusta in a way that will entertain Mulciber, Nott and I. Do you think you are capable of this?"

"Yes." She whispered.

"You must address me as 'my Lord'."

"Yes, my lord." Bellatrix repeated. She turned slightly to look at him. "Do you want her alive...when I have finished?" He smirked, as if pleased with her.

"That is entirely your decision."

He stepped backwards to join the other men, leaving Bellatrix facing Augusta alone. The witch wriggled helplessly, and Bellatrix could not help but wonder why animals, insects, and humans alike struggled like that in the face of danger, even when they knew it was futile. She tilted her head to one side and narrowed her eyes, before lifting her wand and removing the gap with a swift flick.

"Please! My God, please don't kill me! Please!" Augusta shrieked. Bellatrix turned her head slightly to look at Voldemort, whose face was impassive.

"I find it much more entertaining to hear them _beg_ for mercy." Bellatrix drawled. Chuckles came from the men behind her, which fell silent as Bellatrix hitched her dress up to above the thigh and revealed a small dagger strapped around it. She pulled the dagger out swiftly, the blade glinting almost prettily in the moonlight. "Now, Augusta, where would you like me to slice first?"

"No!" The girl screamed again. "No!" Bellatrix felt chills run up and down her arms.

"You always did take a little too much pride in your face, didn't you? Perhaps..." Bellatrix dragged the edge of the blade across Augusta's left cheek, leaving a trail of scarlet blood in its wake. "Ah yes. Better."

"Please...please..." Bellatrix laughed cruelly.

"And I _do_ recall that you had quite the habit of being found in dark corners of an evening, so maybe..." Bellatrix slashed the dagger again, slitting open both her top and bottom lips.

"You _bitch_!" Augusta spat, choking slightly as the blood flooded into her mouth. Bellatrix stood still and stared at her, her eyes meeting with Augusta's.

"Never...speak...to me...that way." She hissed angrily. "_Crucio!" _The force of Bellatrix's curse sent the chair toppling over, and Augusta thrashed and flailed, the pain made all the worse by the fact that she could move neither her arms nor her legs. Bellatrix increased the intensity of the curse as each minute passed until, at last, she waved her wand and it ended, removing the binding that entrapped her at the same time. "_Imperio_!" Bellatrix waved her wand and made Augusta clamber to her feet, before slowly walking towards Lord Voldemort. She stopped just in front of him, Bellatrix standing to her right. Ending the Imperius curse, Bellatrix reached out and grabbed Augusta's left arm, before plunging the dagger inside it and slowly, torturously, etching the shape of the Dark Mark into her skin, Augusta's screams rattling around the forest. When she had finished, Bellatrix wiped the blood from the dagger with Augusta's blonde hair.

"Just let me die!" She pleaded. "Kill me, finish it!" Bellatrix knelt down next to her, a smug smirk on her face as she tilted her head to one side.

"You see, dear Augusta, that is the best part. This dagger has been soaked with _le Poison des Rois_. If you didn't already know, it takes about ten minutes before it begins to work, which means that it should be starting...oh...right about now."

As if on cue, Augusta threw back her head and began screaming, flailing her arms and legs as if she had no control over them, and a black billow of smoke erupted from her mouth. Bellatrix and the three men watched in silence until, minutes later, Augusta's body seized up entirely, and she was dead. Bellatrix slowly stood to her feet, jumping slightly when loud applause resounded around the clearing. Lord Voldemort was clapping, looking at her with a smirk of triumph.

"That was exactly as I had hoped." He said. "The _Poison des Rois _was an elegant little touch, I felt. Very...feminine."

"Thank you, my Lord." Bellatrix whispered, her hands trembling.

"Nott, Mulciber, return to the house. I shall finish here alone." Bellatrix did not move as the two men disapparated. She simply stood with the dagger still in her hand, a small measure of blood still dripping from the blade and onto the corpse at her feet. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat as Lord Voldemort stepped forwards and tilted her head by placing his index finger beneath her chin. "Drop the dagger, and give me your left arm."

She did, neither of them flinching at the sound it made as it plunged into Augusta's body. Bellatrix slowly lifted her arm, turning it to reveal the pale, delicate flesh. Lord Voldemort removed his wand and placed the tip of it against her skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he did so. Bellatrix watched, entranced, until suddenly she could feel nothing but pain. It was as if there were a thousand voices screaming in her head, as if her body was on fire, as if her very soul was being decimated by a thousand knives. She groaned and fell to her knees, the forest swimming before her eyes, but still his wand remained pressed against her arm. Then, the world went black.

Moments later, Bellatrix opened her eyes to find herself lying on the dirty floor of the forest. She blushed, ashamed, as she sat up, but found that Lord Voldemort did not look disapproving or disappointed. He simply held out a hand, which Bellatrix took, and helped her to her feet. Her arm, which used to look so pale and empty, was now covered by a jet black Dark Mark, the snake slithering slowly in and out of the skull's mouth, silently hissing at her as she ran a finger down the length of it. She looked at Voldemort, her eyes wide.

"Does this mean I am one of your followers now, my Lord? I am a Death Eater?"

"Indeed." He replied. For a moment, he looked pensive, as if trying to decide whether or not to say or do something more. Bellatrix looked at him, tilting her head to one side, and sub-consciously licked her lips. He smirked, before speaking in a hushed tone, as if worried that someone might hear him. "You are quite magnificent in your wickedness, Bella." She gasped, before smiling slightly and biting her lip.

"Thank you, _my Lord_." They stood still like that for a moment, before he abruptly turned away from her and looked down at the body of Augusta. He stared at it, and then looked back at Bellatrix.

"There is one last thing you must do before you are officially a Death Eater."

"What is that, my Lord?"

"You must claim the killing as your own. The spell you will need is _Morsmordre_."

Bellatrix stood back and pointed her wand at the body, before allowing her eyes to close. After a moment of silence, she spoke.

"_Morsmordre._" It was nothing but a whisper, and yet an emerald billow of smoke erupted from her wand, and the shape of the Dark Mark loomed in the sky.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Apologies for the gap between the first chapters and this one, real life took over for a while - essays to write, parties to go to, that kind of thing. Many thanks to all of those who have read and reviewed the last chapters - it is appreciated far more than you could know. Please do the same for this one! Thanks. :D_


	6. Six

___Author's Note: As it is the festive season, here is a gift for you all! Many thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter, I hope you like this one too! Merry Christmas, or seasons greetings for whatever you choose to celebrate.  
><em>

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><p><em>June 1973.<em>

Bellatrix returned home that night, the sensations of her initiation into the Death Eaters still thrumming through her body. Her head pounded, her arm ached, and with every step she took she could feel the cold blade of her dagger pressing against her skin. As Bellatrix entered the hallway of the house, Narcissa came running down the stairs towards her, stopping herself by placing her hands on Bella's shoulders.

"What's the matter?" Bellatrix asked, taking hold of Bellatrix's hands. "Tell me what's wrong, Cissy."

"Did you go through with it? Are you a Death Eater?"

"Hush!" Bellatrix admonished, before whispering, "Yes, yes I am. Why?"

"Mama and papa...they discovered that you weren't in the house, they asked me where you were. I couldn't...I didn't..."

At that moment, the door to the drawing room was flung open, and Bellatrix's father stormed into the hall. He pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at her, growling menacingly before coming to a stop. Their mother was holding his arm, looking nervously around the room as if concerned that someone may have been watching them. Bellatrix dropped Narcissa's hand, before turning slowly to face her father. She too pulled out her wand, before taking the stance as if preparing to duel.

"Please, Cygnus, consider what you are doing." Her mother said insistently.

"Papa...don't...please." Narcissa pleaded.

"Is it true then?" He spat angrily. "Have you, Bellatrix Black, finally crossed the line in an extraordinary act of foolishness? Show me your arm. _Show. Me. Your. Arm." _

Bellatrix did not hesitate, but simply pushed up the left sleeve of her robe. The Dark Mark seemed more vivid then than it had in the forest and, despite the pride she felt at her success, she felt a little revolted at the ugly way it marred her skin. She looked up and her eyes met those of her mother; in them was the deepest sense of shame, of disappointment, and it was almost enough to make Bellatrix regret her decision. Her father looked at the Mark, expressionless, before looking up at her.

"Why did you do this?" Her mother asked quietly. "Bella, why did you throw your life away for something in which you do not truly believe?"

"My beliefs have never concerned you before." Bellatrix said, addressing her parents directly for the first time. "Did you mind when I told you that I don't want to marry? Did you listen when I said I wanted to think for myself, to make decisions for myself? I _believe _that this is what I want, I _believe _in what Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters do, and I _believe _that I am going to do this, no matter what you say."

"You are no longer welcome in this house." Cygnus said quietly, his voice so low that it was almost a whisper. Bellatrix's trunk appeared suddenly in the hallway. "The house elf has packed your things, and you must leave here straight away."

"Please papa." Narcissa pleaded, running towards her father. "Please don't do this..._don't_. You will regret it, papa!"

"Oh yes, he shall regret it, Cissy." Bellatrix drawled. As when she faced Augusta in the forest, Bellatrix was able to feign a disdainful nonchalance that she did not truly feel. In truth, she wanted to cry. "The Dark Lord will only tolerate his reluctance and his refusal for so long. And oh how our father has liked to point out just what happens to those who disagree with the Dark Lord."

"Is that a threat?"

"Most certainly." Bellatrix replied, her eyes flashing with a glint of malice. "And be sure that you do not forget it."

With nowhere else to go, Bellatrix took her things and went to London, where she landed on her Aunt Walburga's doorstep. The older woman ushered her inside, fussing over her as if she had simply gone there for a social visit. Bellatrix sat down on the stiff-backed sofa, dejected, whilst her Aunt rang for Kreacher and he brought them a pot of tea. Walburga sat next to her niece, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"Now, Bella, tell your Aunt Walburga everything." Bellatrix sighed.

"There is nothing to tell." She whispered. "I joined the Death Eaters, and papa kicked me out." Bellatrix lifted her sleeve again, turning slightly to show her aunt the Mark. Walburga winced as she looked at it, reaching out a bony finger and tracing the outline.

"It's terribly ugly, isn't it? Such a pity he didn't make it a little more...appealing. Is it permanent?"

"Of course it's permanent." Bellatrix barked irritably.

The door behind them opened, and the two women turned to see Sirius and Regulus standing in the doorway. Regulus was wearing pyjamas and looked delighted to see his cousin, whereas Sirius stood scowling at her, dressed in muggle jeans and a t-shirt. Running and jumping over the back of the sofa, Regulus landed in-between his mother and Bellatrix, gasping when he saw the magical tattoo. He grabbed her arm and prodded the serpent with his index finger, laughing when it hissed at him.

"That's fantastic! It's the Dark Mark, isn't it? Mundungus Fletcher says it isn't real, but I told him it was! Are you a Death Eater, Bella? And why are you here, anyway? Sirius and I heard you arrive. You woke me up."

Sirius walked clumsily further into the room, looking down his nose at the tattoo on his cousin's arm. He sneered in disgust, turning away from her.

"So you joined the ranks of the idiots, did you?" He spat. "Voldemort, his Death Eaters and their ridiculous ideas won't get them anywhere, only Azkaban. I don't even know what their problem is. There's nothing wrong with muggleborns. I know a girl called Lily Evans, and she –"

"How _dare_ you utter such things to you cousin?" Walburga snapped, causing both Bellatrix and the boys to jump. "Get to your room. _Now_." As he stormed out, Walburga flicked her wand and he gave a yelp of pain, before slamming the door behind him. Regulus looked somewhat smug at being permitted to remain in the room.

"So, Bella, do you really get to _kill _people?"

"We shall have less of your nonsense too, young man." Walburga said, although it was with a great deal more fondness. She put her arm around her son and cradled him against her. "Now, how long do you expect you shall stay here for? Will it be for a while, or will Lord Voldemort provide you with a place to stay?"

"I don't know." Bellatrix replied, wriggling slightly, for Regulus tickled her as he ran his finger up and down the length of her arm. "I suppose I must write to him." Walburga smiled sadly, gently tapping her niece's cheek.

"Perhaps you should look at this as a thing to celebrate; after all, you have what you wanted, Bella. You are free of your parents, free to do as you choose." Bellatrix smiled slightly.

"Will the Dark Lord come here again?" Regulus asked eagerly. Bellatrix thought for a moment, her mind flicking back to being alone with him in the forest, and her stomach flipped.

"I hope so." She said quietly.

That night Bellatrix wrote a letter to the Dark Lord, and was somewhat surprised when she received a prompt response the next day. Over dinner with her aunt and cousins, Bellatrix read them the letter, which explained how he would very much like it if he could visit her one evening at the end of the week. Walburga was thrown instantly into a delighted panic.

"Merlin's beard, to have him here once was a pleasure, twice an honour! I shall have Kreacher make his very best venison, and we shall import the finest elf-made wine from France. You will write to him and extend the invitation for dinner, of course?"

"Certainly." Bellatrix replied.

"I shall not stay here this weekend, if _he _will be here." Sirius grunted moodily. "James Potter has already invited me to stay, so I might as well go then and not come back for the rest of the summer."

"I shall be glad of it!" Walburga shrieked. "You are a waste of breath and energy, Sirius Pollux Black! I do not know why I tolerate you. Go to stay with the Potters, show a disloyalty to your family and greatly insult the Dark Lord, what do I care for it?"

"What is your issue with him, Sirius?" Bellatrix asked gently. "We are fighting for the rightful place of purebloods in society, a place and an honour which has been robbed from us by mudbloods and muggles. Do you want to see the fortune of our great family, diluted and distributed amongst the heathens? Do you wish to see this house fall into wrack and ruin or, worse still, into the hands of some mudblood who wishes to see your poor mother turned out onto the street?"

"They're not like that!" Sirius replied. "None of the muggleborns I've met are like that; they're nice, they're friendly, they're just like we are, only they don't have so many ridiculous ideas about purity and superiority."

"These 'ridiculous ideas', as you call them, have enabled you to have all that you do. The purity of our blood, the history of our family, the very names of our ancestors mean that we are superior."

"Do you even really mean any of this, Bellatrix?" Sirius barked. "I've never heard you talk about this before. You've always been an unbearable snob, of course – all of your family are, except Andromeda – but you've never been one to harp on about the superiority of bloodlines. Not until Lord Voldemort started sniffing around."

"How _dare you?_" Bellatrix hissed, removing her wand from her sleeve. "You must remember who you are talking to, Sirius – I am a Death Eater, and a follower of the Dark Lord." She gave her wand to short flicks, casting a silent spell that landed a slap on either side of Sirius' face. Tears welled in his eyes as he turned to his mother.

"Will you let her get away with that?" He demanded. Walburga simply waved her hand.

"You are a disgrace to me, boy. I have nothing more to say on the matter."

When the weekend arrived, Sirius left the house to stay with the Potters, and the tension at Grimmauld Place was alleviated instantly. Bellatrix knew that her young cousin had struck a nerve. Although her family had made it perfectly clear that they were superior to mudbloods and muggles, Bellatrix had always taken a rather passive view of the matter; she believed them to be filthy, inferior, degenerate, but had never had to prove or demonstrate it. That fact alone made her feel almost like a fraud, and Sirius had only made her more keenly aware of it. Bellatrix made a silent vow to herself to be more demonstrative of it in the future, before relaxing when Sirius left the house on the Saturday afternoon.

With Sirius gone, it seemed as if Walburga also felt freer to prepare for Voldemort's visit with the delight and dedication that it deserved. She spent hours agonising over tablecloths, and Bellatrix's opinion was asked about everything and anything – did the Dark Lord prefer a champagne flute or a coupe, would he rather eat blancmange or a tart for dessert? But Bellatrix did not know the answer to any of her questions and, soon enough, they were no longer asked of her. An hour before his expected arrival, Bellatrix stood in the bedroom that had been designated as hers, and stared pitifully at the wardrobe full of her things. All of her favourite dresses and robes had been left behind at the manor, and so she was left to wear one of her simply, day-to-day, choices. Aunt Walburga entered the room and gave a sigh at her appearance.

"Do you really expect such an ensemble shall win him over? One has to make _more _of an effort with powerful men, Bella. Do you think you shall be the first woman to try and seduce him? You certainly will not be, nor will you be the last, but you must be the only one who succeeds." Walburga waved her wand, and a small trinket box came floating into the room. She opened it, and removed a pair of emerald tear drop earrings. "Wear these, and the Dark Mark necklace. Put your hair up, so he can see your face...yes, yes that's it."

"I feel like a fool." Bellatrix snapped, as her aunt covered her face with all kinds of powders. "He recruited me for my abilities, not for the way I look."

"He may be the Dark Lord, Bellatrix, but he is a man – I can guarantee that he has contemplated your looks at some point in the duration of your acquaintance."

The conversation over dinner was as stilted and uncomfortable as Bellatrix had expected it to be. Her aunt laughed and joked, telling loud boisterous stories that evidently did not interest the Dark Lord. Regulus simply stared at their guest in awe, his mouth ajar slightly; he did not even turn his eyes from him when eating, causing several comedic moments when he missed his mouth completely. Throughout the meal, Bellatrix longed for it to be over, hoping that his opinion of her would not be lessened by the ridiculous behaviour of her aunt. It almost made her long to be back at the inhospitable manor; at least then he was at ease, at least then Bellatrix could relax.

Once the meal was over, Walburga and Regulus remained in the dining room, whilst Bellatrix and Voldemort moved to the privacy of the drawing room upstairs. Bellatrix sat in a chair by the fire and folded her arms across her chest, in the hope that she would be able to hide the visible shaking of her hands; it made her nervous to be alone with him, more so because she was not certain of the nature of his visit. He stood by the window that overlooked the square, his back stiff and his arms by his side, his dark eyes fixed steadily upon her. After a few moments, he finally spoke.

"I am sorry that your father responded in such a way, Bellatrix. I had hoped he would change his mind; Cygnus would certainly be a welcome addition to our ranks."

"I do not think he will ever be persuaded." She replied with a sigh. They fell silent for a moment, before Bellatrix summoned the courage to ask him a question. "Is that why you encouraged me, why you wanted to recruit me? To get to my father?" Lord Voldemort smirked slightly, leaning back in the chair.

"Initially, yes. Cygnus Black is a powerful man, capable of much more than I am sure you are aware, and he would be a great asset to me and my followers. I know that your father is a man whose primary concern is his family, and so I assumed that that would be the way to win him over." He casually waved his hand. "I saw quite early that that was not to be the case, but I had already seen a potential in you that I could not ignore. I am wholly convinced that you will become one of the wizarding world's most powerful witches under my tutelage." Bellatrix smiled, feeling her cheeks turning red at the compliment.

"I don't believe I would ever be capable of that."

"You have already proven that you are, so it is unnecessary to dispute it." His tone sounded final, and Bellatrix did not dare to protest further. After a moment, he spoke again, his tone full of command. "Come here."

Bellatrix did not hesitate for a moment, and crossed the room slowly, before coming to a stop in front of him. He was a great deal taller than her, and she was forced to almost tilt her head back completely to properly look at him. Bellatrix's heart was hammering, and the speed only increased as Lord Voldemort reached out a hand and gently placed it on her chest.

"It is as if I can smell the blood pumping through your veins." He hissed, causing Bellatrix to shudder. She could not tell if it was caused by revulsion or by pleasure, but the sensation of his hand upon her bare flesh made it seem as if her very skin was on fire. She looked down, fixing her eyes on the carpet, unable to face looking at him. Her heart had never beaten so violently before; she was almost convinced that it would leap from her chest. Suddenly, Lord Voldemort's voice sliced through the silence, striking somewhere deep inside Bellatrix, although it was but a hiss. "I command you to look at me."

Bellatrix looked up and gasped, for his face was but an inch from hers. He moved his head slowly from side to side, but only slightly, reminding Bellatrix of the movements of a snake. He spoke again, his voice slow and deep. "I find the obvious effects that I have on you quite fascinating...the way you blush, the quickening of your heart, the trembling of your hand. For a woman who showed so little anxiety when faced with death, why is it that you behave this way? I have seen nothing like it before."

"Please..." Bellatrix whispered, the blush on her cheeks only increasing. She wanted to escape from him; she longed for her aunt to interrupt their conversation, for the Dark Lord to grow disinterested and leave, anything to get away from this. She felt like a fly, trapped in the unrelenting web of the spider. She gasped when, suddenly, he reached forwards and placed the pad of him thumb upon her lip.

"It is a fact that, when one is attracted to another, blood will rush to one's lips." He narrowed his eyes and leant closer still, tilting his head to one side. "To see yours so red...I am barely able to fight the desire to slit them open and watch the blood pour down your porcelain chin."

Bellatrix tried to turn away from him then, stepping backwards slightly and stumbling over the small table. She placed her hand upon it to balance herself.

"I must...my aunt...I cannot..."

But she could not say another word, for he lurched towards her and wrapped his long fingers around her wrists, the edge of his sharp fingernails digging into her skin. Her heart beat wildly and, for one awful moment, Bellatrix was certain that he was about to kill her. She opened her mouth, as if about to scream, but before she could make any kind of sound, he had crushed his lips against hers. He was forceful and determined, his tongue probing the inside of her mouth, in a way that she could not decide whether it was unpleasant or enjoyable. He relinquished his grip on her wrists and stepped forwards, forcing her against the wall of the room with a bump, before he shifted his hands around her neck. His grasp was tight and uncomfortable as he kissed her more and more furiously; Bellatrix tried to struggle against it, but that only seemed to make him grip more tightly. She was finding it difficult to breathe and, suddenly, her knees buckled. He dropped his hands and wrapped them around her waist, holding her against him. They stayed like that for a moment, Bellatrix balancing on her tiptoes, as the Dark Lord glared at her. The way he looked, a stranger would have thought that he was about to hurt her, were it not for the wanton way he held her body against the length of his.

Suddenly, he let go of her and Bellatrix stumbled backwards, holding up her hands as if it would prevent him from coming to her again. She knew that she looked ruffled and undone; her wrists and her neck felt bruised, her lips swollen, and her heart was pounding. But Bellatrix did not know how she felt. She knew that what she had just experienced was far from perfect; they were treading a thin wire between bloodlust and an uncontrollable physical lust for one another. Her eyes drifted towards the mirror that hung above the fireplace, and she took in her appearance. Her eyes were wide and wild, there were red marks on her neck, one of the emerald earrings had fallen off, and her hair was no longer fixed tidily in place; she looked as if she were about to fall apart. Turning her head slightly, she looked at Lord Voldemort who, although more composed than Bellatrix, was breathing heavily and baring his teeth at her in a predatory manner.

"Now _now_, Bellatrix." He sneered. "I had hoped for some fighting spirit. Perhaps I was wrong about you, perhaps you are as _spineless _as all the other women I have met."

Bellatrix was not sure what triggered her next action; perhaps it was because she wanted to prove that she was powerful, or maybe because she could not bear the idea that he had ever thought of another woman. She charged forwards across the room, leaping over the chair wildly and pushing him against the cabinet. The ornaments and china inside rattled dangerously as she kissed him, slowly sinking her teeth into his bottom lip. He gave a hiss, before pulling away, laughing almost bitterly.

"Better, much better." He said, stepping towards her. He reached out his hand and, much to Bellatrix's surprise, tenderly brushed a lock of her hair away from her face. She had prepared herself for a slap. "I must leave now, but I trust that I shall see you again."

"Yes..." Bellatrix whispered a little hoarsely. "Yes, my Lord."

Alone in her bedroom when he had left, Bellatrix looked in the mirror again. She was almost afraid by the wanton woman who stared back at her, with a glint of malice, of sin, in her eyes – she was someone with whom Bellatrix was not familiar. However, casting her mind back to the moment that she pushed him against the cabinet, the way he had felt when she had been pressed against him, Bellatrix could not hold back her joy. She watched in the mirror as the stranger nibbled on her bottom lip and gave a wicked laugh.


	7. Seven

___Author's Note: Happy new year to you all! In order to celebrate the arrival of a new year, here is a brand new chapter. Many thanks, as ever, for all of the reviews. And now, onto the chapter itself, in which there is a wedding and shocking request. Please let me know what you think!  
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><p><em>January 1974.<em>

It did not take long for the elation that Bellatrix had felt that night to fade and be replaced with disappointment. It was as if she carried it around with her, a heavy weight that pressed on her shoulders and lingered in both her mind and her heart. Life at Grimmauld Place was no less dull than it had been at home at the manor – in some respects, it was worse. Her aunt Walburga would leave her alone for barely a minute, before finding someone they had to visit, or something she had to do; she was always prying too, trying to wheedle out secrets and get gossip fodder for her and her friends. As Bellatrix sat in stiff-backed chairs, in drawing rooms or parlours that were almost identical to all of those she had seen before, listening to the idle prattle of her aunt and her cronies, she found it increasingly more difficult to believe that the events of Lord Voldemort's visit had been true. Had he really kissed her so fervently? Had she _truly _bitten him in such a way, and faced no punishment for it? It seemed too incredible, too unlikely. Perhaps she had dreamt it all.

In the first few weeks following that night, Bellatrix had hoped that what had passed between her and Voldemort would be verified the next time she saw him. During some long afternoons, she would allow herself to lie back on the sofa and close her eyes, to think what might happen when he saw her. Would he acknowledge her in front of everyone? Or perhaps they would be alone, perhaps he would send her a letter inviting her to headquarters, and there he would...she wasn't entirely sure what she hoped he would do. The very memory of his body against hers, the thrill that seemed to soar through her as she sunk her teeth into his lips...it was almost as if someone else had done it, as if someone had taken over her body and made her do those things.

Her hopes for some kind of assurance, however, were swiftly killed when she saw Lord Voldemort again. One afternoon, she was led lazily on the sofa, watching as her aunt arranged flowers in a tall vase, when the suddenly felt a stabbing pain in her left arm. The sensation of it made her wince, and she gripped her arm with a quiet hiss.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Walburga asked with a small frown.

"My arm...it hurts." Bellatrix pushed back her sleeve and saw that the Dark Mark seemed to be more vivid than normal. After a moment had passed, she felt another stab of pain. "I think...I think it means something."

"Did he tell you anything about it?"

"No..." Bellatrix winced again. "What should I do?"

"Why don't you press your wand against it, dear? Maybe that will do something?"

Bellatrix did just that, and gasped as she was instantly forced to disapparate. She appeared, moments later on a softly-carpeted floor, and looked around with a small frown. Others arrived around her just as she had, falling out of nowhere onto the ground, before standing and hurrying away. Bellatrix turned and, upon inspecting the room further, found that there was a large table nearby surrounded by chairs. She copied the actions of the others and sat down, the whispers and jeers of the others increasing as the minutes passed. She was the only female there. She gave a short sigh and placed the palms of her hands flat on the table, before turning to look at the chair that sat at the head. Suddenly, silence fell over the room and the door opened. Bellatrix and the rest of the men in the room watched as the Dark Lord slowly entered, taking a seat before slowly bowing his head. She dared not move as he flicked is eyes around the table, clearly taking a register of sorts, and her heart thudded as she waited until he came to her. The moment passed and, as he had done with every other Death Eater, his eyes simply skipped over her as if she were insignificant.

Bellatrix seethed for the rest of the meeting, but she still held some hope that he would speak to her when it was over. That too was not to be the case, for as soon as he had declared the meeting over, he swept from the room with the small group of men who had sat at the head of the table with him. This ritual happened at least twice a month and, every time, Bellatrix hoped that the outcome would be different. But after each meeting she returned to Grimmauld Place with bruised pride and a bewilderment that threatened to overwhelm her. He did not visit again, nor did he write. It was as if he had had his fill of her, as if she had fallen into obscurity amongst his other ardent followers. Perhaps, as Bellatrix sat alone in the gloomy rooms of her aunt's house, he was out seducing another witch, another woman who would follow him just as she had done, because she could not resist the hold that he had over her.

Before Bellatrix had even realised how much time had passed, Christmas arrived and was swiftly over. She celebrated at Grimmauld Place, with a short visit from Narcissa on Boxing Day. She was accompanied by Lucius, who looked somewhat sneeringly at the humble surroundings of their home. Bellatrix asked her aunt for a moment of privacy, and she left the room to enable her to be alone with her sister. Narcissa took hold of her hand, and also held Lucius', before joining them together.

"I want very much for the two of you to be friends. You shall be working together soon enough." Narcissa said, smiling.

"You are a Death Eater?" Lucius drawled, incredulous.

"Indeed." Bellatrix replied, raising an eyebrow. "I believe you are to join, once you and Cissy are married."

"That is something I must discuss with you." Narcissa said, giving a small sigh and turning to look at Lucius. "We are to marry sooner than planned, next month in fact. The Dark Lord demanded it."

"I am not surprised. He mentioned at our most recent meeting that it is becoming more and more important that we increase our numbers. Apparently, Dumbledore is creating an army against us."

"That is true." Lucius said, nodding. "I have been liaising with seventh years on the Dark Lord's command, and when I went to meet them last month in Hogsmeade, I found myself under the surveillance of the old man. The Dark Lord is furious."

"You have been given an assignment by the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix demanded, feeling envy swell in her uncontrollably. "But you are not even a Death Eater yet."

"Jealous, are we?" Lucius drawled, smirking smugly. "I cannot imagine what sort of task the Dark Lord would be able to assign to a witch who sits around drinking tea and thinking about flowers all day."

Before anyone had any time to understand what was happening, Bellatrix had leapt to her feet, and the tip of her dagger was pressed against Lucius' throat. He was chortling quietly; his eyes glinting with enjoyment, but Narcissa looked horrified and swatted her hand away.

"Lucius, Bellatrix, please, I want you to get along." She snapped.

"I apologise, Narcissa, but I just had to see why the Dark Lord recruited her. I've heard talk of her temper from the others and wanted to witness it for myself. I understand now...I shall not bate her again."

Bellatrix returned to her seat, slipping the dagger back in its position. She folded her arms and turned to Narcissa, who was still scowling at Lucius in irritation.

"I want you to be my bridesmaid next month." Narcissa said, reaching out and holding Bellatrix's hand. "But...papa and mama will be there, of course. I have asked Andromeda to be my bridesmaid too. I just...please accept, Bella."

"I shall agree to bury any dispute I have with our family for your wedding, Cissy." Bellatrix replied. "Tell me...will the Dark Lord attend?"

"Yes." Lucius' chest puffed with pride, before he added, "And I am to take the Dark Mark that same night."

"Mama and papa...they still do not know." Narcissa said, biting her lip.

"They shall be furious when they discover it." Bellatrix stated. "But you shall always have my support, Cissy, and that of Aunt Walburga. Despite what he says, it is papa who has chosen wrongly. He shall have to face the consequences of it soon, I can feel it."

On the day of the wedding, Bellatrix returned to the manor for the first time in months. She was surprised to find that, stepping into the entrance hall, she felt no kind of remorse, no kind of regret. There was just a hollow feeling in her stomach. Narcissa was in her bedroom, along with Andromeda and their mother, who was fussing over the bride as she combed her hair in the mirror. They all froze when Bellatrix entered, but Narcissa breezed over and gave her older sister a warm embrace.

"I'm so glad you agreed to come, Bella." She said quietly. "Your dress is over there, you can put it on if you like."

The dresses that Narcissa had chosen for the bridesmaids were short, made of light grey silk; Bellatrix was surprised by how modern they were. She put the dress on and looked at her reflection, before reaching into the bag she had brought with her and taking out her jewellery – she put on the necklace that the Dark Lord had given her, as well as the emerald earrings that she had borrowed from her aunt Walburga. The only problem that Bellatrix had with the dress she was wearing was the fact that the sleeves were short, revealing the Dark Mark upon her arm.

"Is there any way you can cover that thing up?" Her mother snapped, appearing behind her. Bellatrix gave a short sigh, turning to face her.

"No. But why will it matter? The Dark Lord will be there for everyone to see, and I doubt that any of the guests invited will have strong objections to it."

"Your father and I – "

"...Stopped having control over me when you threw me out. Now do excuse me, I have to help Narcissa prepare for the wedding."

The wedding ceremony was held in the conservatory which, despite the snow that led on the ground outside, had been enchanted to make it seem as if it were the middle of summer. Bellatrix could not deny that her parents had done a beautiful job of decorating the room; there were lavenders and bluebells everywhere, and delicate Large Blues gracefully fluttered around the room. Bellatrix walked down the aisle behind Narcissa, the speed so painfully slow that she longed to dash ahead of her. As she passed the guests, it was almost as if there was a wave of whispers and muttering, as people pointed at the Mark on Bellatrix's arm. Her father, who was giving Narcissa away, turned to look at her with a disgusted scowl, but Bellatrix simply ignored him, turning her head slightly to look at the guests. That was when she saw him, the Dark Lord. He sat at the front row of the groom's side, evidently in the position of guest of honour. His eyes met Bellatrix's and he smirked at her, bowing his head slightly as she blushed. She sat down when they reached the front and, although she tried desperately to concentrate on the ceremony between Lucius and her sister, all she could think of was him.

That evening saw the manor play host to a ball, to which hundreds more people had been invited. The guest list included everyone from ministry officials to former school friends of the newlyweds, and Bellatrix had an overwhelming desire to escape them all. She stood at the side of the ballroom, clutching a glass of champagne in her hand, and mindlessly nodding through a conversation with old Horace Slughorn, who seemed to be delighted by anything and everything he saw. Bellatrix watched as Lucius spun his bride across the floor, Narcissa laughing freely as he did, before pressing her lips against his cheek. She could not help but feel a stir of envy, a fact that very much took Bellatrix by surprise. She knew that it was not the marriage that she envied, but the easy way with which they showed one another affection. Somehow, Bellatrix knew even then that she would never experience that for herself. She knew that she was doomed to evenings such as the one she had spent with the Dark Lord or, worse still, to clinging on to the memory of that night with no hope of ever repeating it.

"Excuse me." Bellatrix said suddenly, turning away from Slughorn and walking determinedly towards the door. She stopped abruptly, however, when she suddenly collided with the chest of another person. The irritation with which she looked up melted when she saw who she had collided with. It was Him. Despite the familiar smirk upon his face, Bellatrix noted that his appearance had further deteriorated; he looked more sallow, more worn. As if he was on the brink of death. "I apologise, my Lord." Bellatrix blurted, turning away from him.

"It is I who should apologise, for I blocked your path. I had to prevent you from leaving, however, for I wish to request the next dance."

Bellatrix watched dumbly as he fell into a deep bow and extended his hand towards her. She took it, surprised by how delicately he held it as she remembered the sensation of his fingers digging into the skin of her wrist. He led her gracefully to the centre of the floor, before placing a hand upon her waist. They danced a slow waltz, and every turn sent Bellatrix's head reeling, the swell of the orchestra only seeming to grow louder and louder. She could hear people whispering too, no doubt speculating on Voldemort's motives, on what Bellatrix was trying to do. Suddenly, he spun her so quickly that Bellatrix thought she might fly, before pulling her tightly against him. She looked up at him then, laughing with abandon, for she realised suddenly that she could only gain from this. The Dark Lord, the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world, the man whom many of those gathered in the room were bound to serve, had made a clear demonstration of his preference for Bellatrix. Who could rally against her then? Who would dare deny her, at the risk of inciting the wrath of the Dark Lord? She laughed again, closing her eyes and feeling a surge of joy. She felt a tickle of breath against her neck, and then the Dark Lord spoke.

"There is a task that I will soon ask you to perform, Bellatrix. It is very important, I trust only you to do it. Do you think you are able?" Bellatrix smiled wickedly, opening her eyes and catching the gaze of her father.

"I would do anything for you, my Lord." She whispered. "Anything you could ever ask."

When the party was over, the guests gone, Bellatrix knew that it would soon be time for the secret part of the celebrations to begin, the part to which barely anyone was invited. Narcissa and Lucius had gone upstairs, pretending that they were going to bed as the rest of the house had done. Bellatrix stayed downstairs and, grabbing a full bottle of champagne from the table, went out into the grounds. The snow crunched underfoot as she stumbled towards the small, wooded area, swigging directly from the bottle as she went. She waved her wand and cleared a log of snow, before sitting on it and waiting. She did not have to wait long for, moments later, she saw a small group heading towards her. The Dark Lord was leading, his robes billowing menacingly as he approached; Narcissa was clutching onto Lucius' arm, her face pale with worry. Bellatrix watched as Lucius gently pushed his new wife away, and held out her hands as her younger sister came to sit on the log beside her. The silence that fell over the clearing was heavy, oppressive, as if it would fall down at any moment and crush them all. The Dark Lord stood opposite Lucius, a solemn expression on his face, and the ceremony began.

"Lucius, you have already proven yourself to be a loyal servant to me. You have shown your powers numerous times, and I have high hopes for your future amongst the ranks of my Death Eaters. The time has come for you to join us officially. Extend your arm." Lucius rolled back the sleeves of his formal wedding robes, revealing the pale expanse of his left forearm. The Dark Lord took his wand and pressed it against Lucius' flesh. Bellatrix gave an audible gasp as Lucius was flung backwards, yelling and howling, his arms and legs flailing wildly as he came crashing to the ground. Narcissa made to leap forwards as he thrashed on the ground but Bellatrix, instinctively, reached out and held her back. Bellatrix could not remove her eyes from the sight of Lucius writhing so helplessly on the ground. Had she done the same? Had she looked so agonised, so tortured? The very idea of it made her feel sick, and she felt the bile rise in her throat.

After what felt like forever, Lucius grew still. The Dark Lord waved his hand, and Bellatrix finally relinquished her grip on her younger sister. Narcissa fell to her knees and gripped Lucius, holding him tightly against her as tears streamed down her cheeks. A few moments passed, before Lucius gave a quiet cough and his eyes fluttered open. Narcissa slowly helped him to his feet, her eyes wide and her face pale as she turned to face Lord Voldemort.

"May I...may I take him back to the house, my Lord? He must rest...I wish to care for him."

"Of course you may, Narcissa. I would not wish to deprive a bride of the joy of her wedding night."

As the newlyweds slowly hobbled back towards the house, Lucius putting all of his weight on Narcissa for support, barely able to stand, Bellatrix realised that she could not see much joy in them at all. What should have been a night of celebration had turned into one of pain and fear. She gave a shaky sigh of disappointment and dismay, until remembering with a jolt that she was not alone. The Dark Lord remained. She turned to face him slowly, and found that his eyes were fixed firmly upon her, his expression quizzical and searching.

"What is it that occupies your mind, Bellatrix? What is it that causes you to sigh so? Are you displeased that your brother-in-law has joined our ranks?"

"Not at all, my Lord. The recruitment of new members brings me nothing but joy." Bellatrix licked her lips. "I was simply wondering if...if I suffered as much as Lucius did. I remember little of it."

"No, you did not. A fact which, I must confess, is most interesting to me. Every other man who has joined my ranks, who has taken my Mark, has reacted in the same manner. You did not." He stepped forwards slowly, tilting his head inquisitively to one side.

"Why do you think that is, my Lord?" Bellatrix whispered.

"I believe it is because you still have something that many desire, Bellatrix." He narrowed his eyes, and Bellatrix felt a stirring of fear. "A faint, flimsy wisp of innocence."

"And that innocence, my Lord...?" She asked, barely knowing why.

"I want you to be rid of it." He spat disgustedly, causing her to recoil in surprise. "There is no room for innocence in my world, Bellatrix."

"What would you have me do, my Lord?" Bellatrix whispered, barely able to breathe. "You mentioned earlier a task...what would you have me do?"

He looked at her bluntly, his eyes unmoving, his mouth formed into a straight line. His face was by no means beautiful, but Bellatrix felt as if she could stare into it forever. When he spoke, it was the sound of his voice rather than the words he spoke that struck her to her very core.

"I want you, Bellatrix, to kill your father."


	8. Eight

_Author's Note: Firstly, an apology for the gap between these two chapters - real life took over for a little while and, if i may admit it, I'd completely forgotten about this fic. Anyway, here is the next chapter! I don't think it's specified anywhere in canon how Cygnus Black dies, so a little creative license has been used. As for the smutty scenes, I'm not accustomed to writing them, so go easy on me. Thanks for all of those who read and reviewed the last chapter, I'd be incredibly grateful if you'd do the same for this one! :D  
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><p><em>February 1974<em>

Bellatrix stood at the bottom of the winding path, her forehead pressed against the cool metal of the gate, her hands wrapped around the iron bars. The sun was rising in the distance, casting a glowing golden light across the manor and the grounds. The house elves would be getting ready to lay out the impressive breakfast spread in the dining room. Andromeda would no doubt be stirring; perhaps she would be leaning over to pick up whatever dreary book she was reading that day. Bellatrix's mother would still be asleep, her messy dark hair shoved beneath her ridiculous nightcap as her snores rang out around her bedchamber. And then her father...what would her father be doing, Bellatrix wondered to herself. She could picture him pacing the length of his study, his dark red dressing gown flaring out behind him, his thick grey brows furrowed in deep thought.

Bellatrix had been in awe of her father for as long as she could remember. Since childhood she had been told of the great line of Black wizards of which her father was a part, and she had always wished that she could have been a part of it too. Bellatrix had a particular memory that stood out, of her and her mother walking along the very path at which she now looked, winding their way slowly back to the house after a stroll in the woods. She must have been only ten or eleven, on the very cusp of becoming a real witch, preparing to leave the familial home and go to Hogwarts, her head full of dreams of what might be.

"Mama," she had said, with such wide eyes. "What makes papa so important? Everyone I hear calls him a great man, but I don't understand why..."

"He is a powerful wizard and a rich one too." Her mother had replied with a weary sigh. "People respect him because of the line he comes from; his father before him was great, his father before him too."

"Shall I carry on the line, mama? Shall I be a powerful witch?" Her mother had laughed, a bitter choking sound that Bellatrix rarely heard even then.

"Of course not, Bellatrix. Only wizards can carry on the line. That was why we only ever wanted a son." Her mother frowned slightly, turning to look at her. "You must do well in school, Bellatrix, you must try hard to know as much as you can, but you will never be as powerful as your father. None of us will."

"Not even Andromeda? Or Cissy?"

"Not even them. It isn't our place to be powerful."

"It seems as if everyone and everything has a place." Bellatrix had muttered miserably. "But what if you aren't happy with it? What if you want something different?"

"Then it is tough." Her mother had replied definitively. "Things are the way they are for a reason, Bellatrix. Order must be maintained."

The words her mother had uttered rung through Bellatrix's mind as she tightened her grip on the bars and pulled open the gates. No matter what anyone had said to her throughout the years, she had always had the glimmer of hope that one day she would prove her mother wrong.

The house was in complete silence when Bellatrix stepped inside the entrance hall; it was heavy, oppressive even, and Bellatrix had to fight the urge to throw back her head and yell, simply to break the silence. She hesitated for a moment, unsure as to what her next move would be. Should she hunt down her father immediately, and get it over and done with in a quick flick of her wand? Or did she want this to be a more momentous occasion? Would there be torture, the screams of her father taken as recompense for all of those times he had done the same to her? Her throat felt suddenly dry at the prospect, but she knew that she didn't have time to linger on such thoughts.

Instead, she pushed open the double doors that led through to the dining room, coming face-to-face with the house elves. They stopped mid-action as she entered, turning to face her with a look of curiosity and confusion. Bellatrix seemed to be frozen to the spot, her eyes as wide as the elf that approached her, and she felt herself blush in embarrassment and anger; she felt foolish, her heart beating wildly in fear, at the sight of common household creatures. One of the elves stepped forwards.

"Miss Bellatrix?" It squeaked loudly. "What is Miss Bellatrix doing here?"

"That is none of your business, elf." She hissed, balling her hands into fists. "Where is my father?"

"Master Black is in his study, Miss Bellatrix. But he is not being happy if Miss Bellatrix is interrupting him..."

Bellatrix did not respond, but simply spun on her heels and headed towards her father's study. She knocked on the heavy wood door three times, putting her hands behind her back and lacing her fingers as she waited patiently. After a moment of silence, the deep, achingly familiar, voice of her father rang out.

"Enter."

Cygnus Black was sitting by the window in his worn leather wing-backed chair. He did not look up as Bellatrix stepped slowly into the room, for his head was bent over an open book, his quill scratching at a piece of parchment that was already covered in a jumble of words and numbers that Bellatrix could not understand. He was breathing deeply and heavily, and Bellatrix stood still for a moment, simply watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his shoulders. Once, when she was younger, her father had lifted her up onto his shoulders, and they had walked around the grounds of the manor together. She had picked apples in the orchard, she had felt safe there. But now her father's shoulders seemed thinner, weaker.

"What on earth do you want? If you must interrupt my work, you should at least have the manners to –" Her father stopped when he looked up and saw her, and Bellatrix was a little taken aback by his appearance. There was no surprise in his eyes, no look of shock to see the daughter that he had disowned standing so brazenly before him. Cygnus slowly put down his quill and folded his arms across his chest. "Bellatrix."

"Father." She replied coldly. She opened her mouth to say something more, and yet no words came out. She licked her lips and gave a shaky sigh.

"You needn't explain yourself, Bellatrix." Cygnus said quietly. "I know perfectly well why you are here. I have been expecting this for some time."

"How could you know that? How could you be expecting this?"

"You forget, Bellatrix, that I have known the Dark Lord for many years, a great number of which I spent as one of his closest associates. Sit, Bellatrix."

Cygnus waved his wand, and a chair floated over and landed opposite his. Bellatrix followed his instructions and sat down, her stomach churning with nerves. She was terrified that, if he spoke for much longer, she would begin to lose her nerve.

"When I was in my fifth year at Hogwarts Lord Voldemort, or Tom as he was more commonly known then, was infatuated with a fourth year Ravenclaw girl named Jocelyn Baird. She was feisty and outspoken, breaking rules and turning heads with all sorts of outlandish actions – she was entirely different to the sycophantic group of followers that Tom had already begun to gather. And that made her entirely desirable to him."

"Father, I do not see why this is –"

"Allow me to finish, Bellatrix." He replied sternly. "Tom pursued Jocelyn doggedly, but nothing he could do would persuade her. As I am sure you are no doubt aware, the Dark Lord does not take well to being refused, and the same could be said of him even then. Jocelyn had a younger sister named Bianca, who was in her first year and the complete opposite of Jocelyn. She was timid, weak...easily influenced, and the Dark Lord used that to his advantage. He manipulated her, had her bend to his will, lied and cheated, until Bianca took his revenge for him."

"What did she do?" Bellatrix asked, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Nothing too terrible; she was twelve years old, and weak with it. She stole a very powerful magical object from Headmaster Dippet's office and framed her older sister for it, causing her to be expelled from Hogwarts. It sounds meek in comparison to other things that the Dark Lord has done, of course, but it ruined Jocelyn's entire life. Tom had his revenge, and his hands were barely dirtied."

"I do not understand the meaning of this little parable, father." Bellatrix replied. "Am I suddenly to realise from this story that the Dark Lord is a bad man? He has done much worse since, father, and yet it will not deter me."

"That was not my intention. I can only assume that I am currently in the same position as Jocelyn Baird, only I doubt my punishment will be as light as expulsion. Am I correct?"

"I...yes. Yes, papa." Cygnus leant forwards in his seat, resting his elbows on the table and taking Bellatrix's hand into his own. Their eyes met, and the sadness and resignation that Bellatrix saw in her father's eyes seemed to punch her in the stomach.

"What did he ask you to do, Bellatrix?" Bellatrix licked her lips slowly, and took a deep breath before responding.

"He asked me to kill you, papa." Bellatrix held her breath as her father leant back in his chair.

"Then that is what you must do."

Bellatrix stood slowly to her feet, her hand shaking as she plunged it into the pocket of her robes. She jumped a little when her fingertips brushed the wood of her wand, and had to fight the desire to laugh at herself. She shook her head slightly, and took another deep breath to calm herself down.

"Why would you do this, father? Why would you sit back and tell me that I must kill you...you're not known for being a man who can be controlled...you're a powerful wizard..."

"He would kill you if you disobeyed him, Bellatrix. You may have gone against my wishes, you may have torn apart our family, but you are still my daughter. I would not allow you to be harmed."

"I don't think I can do this." Bellatrix blurted. "I don't think...I...you...please, papa, please don't make me do this."

"I am not making you do anything." Cygnus replied solemnly. "This was the path you chose; this is your master's bidding. I am making it easier for you, Bellatrix. I could fight if I wanted to, but this will happen no matter what I do today. So do it. Kill me."

Bellatrix slowly took the wand from her pocket and stretched it out in front of her. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, trying to summon some kind of nerve from somewhere deep within. For a moment, she thought it would work if she thought of the night that the Dark Lord asked this of her, then she tried to imagine what he would do if she did not do it, and yet nothing seemed to give her the courage she required. Instead, she simply emptied her head of all thoughts entirely, and focused on the sheer sensation of the magic pumping through her veins. She could feel it all over, running from the centre of her heart to the very tips of her fingers. It was the magic on which she concentrated as she slowly moved her lips and spoke the words, as the spell travelled from her wand, as the flash of green light hit her even with closed eyes.

She did not look at her father as she left the room, shutting the door behind her. She did not even think of him as she walked calmly along the hallway, nor did she think at all until someone called her name when she came into the entrance hall.

"Bellatrix?" Bellatrix turned to see Andromeda standing at the foot of the stairs, still in her dressing gown with a look of horror on her face. "What are you doing here? Where have you been? Does papa know you've been here?"

"It is none of your concern." Bellatrix replied coolly. "But yes, papa does indeed know that I have been here. I have been to see him."

"What could you possibly have to say to him?" Andromeda curled her lip and gave a bitter laugh. "Perhaps you have reconsidered your decision and came back to plead for his forgiveness? He shan't give it to you; you brought this upon yourself."

"I have not reconsidered. I came here on entirely different business. In fact..." Bellatrix removed her wand and pointed it at Andromeda, whose eyes widened as she fumbled for her own wand. Bellatrix chuckled cruelly as her sister panicked, shaking her head in amusement. "Don't worry, sis, I'm not here to finish _you _off..._Morsmordre_." She pointed her wand towards the ceiling and watched as the grey light passed through the ceiling. Andromeda's face was white with horror.

"_Mor...Morsmordre_? Isn't that...don't...the Death Eaters use that spell when a murder has been committed...don't they?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow and slowly shrugged her shoulders, letting her eyes slowly drift towards the direction of her father's study. Andromeda turned her head, paused for a moment, before lurching towards Bellatrix. She scratched and pummelled her sister, screaming wildly as she did so. "You killed father? You _murdered _the man who gave you life? How could you, Bellatrix, how _could _you?"

"It had to be done." Bellatrix shouted loudly, pushing Andromeda away forcefully and shielding herself with a spell. "Papa knew that this was coming to him, he knew what punishment would befall him if he refused the Dark Lord. I only gave what was coming to him."

"What was _coming to him_?" Andromeda buried her hands in her hair, pulling at it wildly. "I thought you had lost your mind when you joined Voldemort, Bellatrix, but I never ever expected you to turn into such a _monster. _You killed our _father_ – have you really no remorse?"

Bellatrix was prevented from answering the question, for a gasp distracted her. She turned to see that her mother had entered the room, her face white with horror. She hesitated for a moment, looking at Bellatrix with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Mama..." Andromeda said, her throat thick with emotion as she reached out her hand. "Mama..."

Bellatrix's mother covered her mouth with her hand and rushed forwards, pushing both Bellatrix and Andromeda out of her way as she ran towards the study. Andromeda narrowed her eyes at Bellatrix, tears tumbling down her cheeks. "Don't ever come here again. Do you understand? _Ever_."

Bellatrix watched as Andromeda ran after her mother. Despite all that had passed between her and her family, Bellatrix had never felt so isolated. She felt unusual as she left the house; hollow, as if there was nothing left inside her at all, or as if she had been ensconced in some kind of bubble that was keeping her from touching the rest of the world. She disapparated as soon as she left the grounds, appearing again moments later in her bedroom at Grimmauld Place. She led on her bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, as her mind whirred so loudly that she could not concentrate on one thought alone.

She was not certain how long she led there but, when the door slowly opened, she jolted as if she had been stirred by an explosion or a bang. Bellatrix sat up slowly to see who had joined her, blinking through the darkness as a thin figure drifted slowly towards her.

"My Lord?" Bellatrix whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "My Lord, is that you?"

"Indeed, Bella. You have done well tonight; you have surpassed yourself."

"I...I did only what you asked of me, my Lord. I am glad that you are pleased with me."

"I am pleased, Bella. And now...your reward."

Bellatrix stayed very still as he approached the bed, holding out his hand to her. She took it tentatively and stood to her feet, letting him guide her towards the centre of the room. The Dark Lord lunged forwards suddenly, burying his fingers amongst the tangle of Bellatrix's hair and pressing his lips forcefully against hers. His kiss was rough; his tongue probed her mouth in a way that almost seemed to repulse Bellatrix, he bit on her lip and drew blood. Bellatrix trembled as the Dark Lord slowly dropped to his knees before her, sliding his hands along the contours of her body. She gave a loud gasp as he suddenly pulled at her robes, tearing them from her with the obvious aid of a spell; she felt exposed and embarrassed, standing before him with the entirety of her lower body bare. Bellatrix turned her head and tried to step away, but he dug his sharp fingernails into the naked flesh of her thighs and gave a hiss of displeasure. Slowly, he trailed his nail across her skin, before settling his hand between her legs, slowly stroking her sex. Bellatrix let out a small whimper, although she was not sure if it was caused by fear or pleasure. She let out a loud gasp as he dipped a finger inside of her, circling her clit vigorously and unrelentingly with the pad of his thumb . Bellatrix felt as if her entire body were on fire, and she let out a moan that caused her cheeks to flush with the embarrassment of just how loud and uncontrolled she had been.

When the Dark Lord removed his hand, Bellatrix gave a small grunt of disappointment. It faded, however, when he bowed his head and pressed his mouth to her sex. He pushed on the inside of her thighs, motioning for her to open them wider, and Bellatrix pressed her eyes shut as tightly as she could when the Dark Lord's tongue flicked across her lips. She felt as if her knees would buckle as she thrust towards him, reaching out and placing her hands forcefully on the back of his head. Bellatrix gasped again as her entire body began to shake, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her moans growing increasingly louder as her inner muscles tightened and released in orgasm. She fell forwards, stopping herself from falling entirely by gripping onto the Dark Lord's shoulders for support. They stayed like that for a moment, still and silent, as the aftershocks continued to wash over Bellatrix.

"My Lord..." She whispered, her voice trembling. The Dark Lord gave a throaty growl, before lifting his hands and pushing Bellatrix backwards onto the bed, lunging frantically at her seconds later. Bellatrix stared at him, her eyes wide with fear and lust, as he fumbled with his own robes. Her gasp and his growl tore the silence as he thrust into her forcefully, holding her hands tightly above her head. Bellatrix kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling as he continued to thrust into her, her legs wrapped tightly around him, her breathing ragged and fast.

"You are mine, Bella." He hissed. "You belong entirely to me now. Swear to me that this is true. Promise me you belong to no other. _Swear. To. Me._"

"I promise, my Lord." Bellatrix gasped. "I swear that I am yours, my Lord, I am yours entirely."

He came in silence then, the only sound the squeaking of the bed, and stood as soon as he had done. Bellatrix reached her hand between her legs, lifting up her fingers to look at the sticky substance she found there. Proof of their intercourse; evidence that, even if just for a little while, Bellatrix and the Dark Lord had been one. She looked up to see him watching her with a smug curiosity, a small smirk on his face.

"My Lord...I do not know what to say." Bellatrix whispered.

"You need not speak." He replied quietly, almost ominously. "But you must sleep now. Lay back, Bella, and sleep, for tomorrow is an important day."

"Why, my Lord?" She asked as she led down. "What is happening tomorrow?"

"A change." He waved his hand slowly, and Bellatrix's eyes began to gradually finish shut. The last thing she saw before sleep overcame her entirely was the satisfied smile of her master.


	9. Nine

__Author's Note: Well, it's been a really long time since I updated this story and for that I'm sorry! I've been really busy with real life, and I struggled to find inspiration to finish this chapter. Here, however, is the final thing, and I hope it was worth waiting for! Please let me know what you think!__

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><p><em>February 1974.<em>

Bellatrix awoke gradually the next morning, a dull ache between her legs and a throbbing in her head. She frowned slightly as she sat up, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. Her sleep had been dreamless and peaceful and yet, awaking from it, it felt entirely unnatural. If it were not for the memories of the previous night, she would have felt unhappy and alone. Bellatrix stared at her hands for a moment, feeling dazed and unsure as to what she ought to do. A gentle thump, however, snapped her out of her reverie, and she turned her head to find Aunt Walburga in the room, Bellatrix's trunk open at her feet. Her brow furrowed as her aunt turned to look at her.

"Oh good, you're awake." The older woman waved her wand, and a dress flew from the wardrobe, folded itself, and floated gently into the trunk. Bellatrix watched as she flicked her wand, and the same happened again. "I didn't want to wake you, but this needed to be done as soon as possible."

"What are you doing with my things?" Bellatrix demanded, climbing out of the bed. She walked over to the trunk and looked in it, finding other items of her belonging in there too. "Why are you packing?" Walburga reached a hand into her pocket and pulled out a scrap of parchment. Bellatrix did not recognise the handwriting, as her aunt hunted for her reading glasses.

"I received this note about an hour ago. It reads 'Walburga, the Dark Lord requests that Bellatrix Black be relocated to the Death Eater headquarters immediately. Pack anything that she may need, and a Death Eater will be at the house at midday to collect her. Evander Nott'." She stuffed the note back in her pocket.

"That's it?" Bellatrix demanded. "Nothing else? They didn't explain why I am to move?"

"No, but I suppose it can only be something to do with the deed you committed for him last night."

Bellatrix froze, her heart pounding, as her aunt turned to look at her. She could see then that her aunt had been crying; she looked older, more tired than Bellatrix had ever thought her to be. The older woman shook her head sadly. "Yes, Bellatrix, I know that you killed your father."

"How?" Bellatrix whispered.

"Your mother wrote to me this morning. How could you do it Bellatrix? How could you murder your own father?"

"The Dark Lord asked me to. I could not refuse him."

"I know, Bellatrix, that I said you would have my support, but I cannot condone this. He was my brother, he was the man who gave you life. I cannot support a man who would order a girl to kill her father so brutally."

"He deserved it!" Bellatrix hissed. "Cygnus Black may have brought about my creation, but it was the Dark Lord, and him alone, who really, truly gave me life. He has taken every opportunity to openly defy the Dark Lord. Those who confront him will meet there end. Papa knew this. He deserved it.

"And is that what shall happen to all of us, if we do not bend to the will of Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes." Bellatrix replied honestly. Walburga shook her head, slowly and sadly, her eyes wide as if truly seeing her daughter for the first time.

"Then I am glad you are to leave."

At midday a Death Eater arrived, ready to take Bellatrix to her new home. She left Grimmauld Place with no sorrow, but a great sense of frustration. Her aunt had always been so supportive of the Dark Lord's aims; she had actively encouraged Bellatrix to seduce him, to follow him so that the position of their family would rise. Why was it that, when Bellatrix had done what she had requested, her aunt was so quick to judge her? Had she expected it to be all dinners and parties? Didn't she realise that they were on the brink of a war?

The headquarters of the Death Eaters was a large stone manor house on the Yorkshire moors, surrounded by dense forest with no town or village nearby. The rain was coming down heavily when they arrived; the sky above them was a deep, menacing grey. Bellatrix gave a sigh and followed the Death Eater into the house, her trunk floating along beside her. She was taken to a small room on the very top floor, and was told that it would be hers for the duration of her stay there – it was furnished sparsely, with just a bed and a wardrobe, a pitiful-looking candle perched on the windowsill seemed to be the only source of light. Bellatrix stood by the window and folded her arms, giving a sigh. She could see nothing but a dense fog, and two black-cloaked figures standing at the front of the house. She leaned closer, pressing her nose against the glass. One of the men was Voldemort, she could tell that from the very way he moved, and she recognised the other to be Rodolphus Lestrange.

Rodolphus, and his older brother Rabastan, had both been at Hogwarts alongside Bellatrix. Rodolphus had been the leader of a particularly nasty group of Slytherin boys, who had tormented almost anyone who was not deemed by them to be acceptable. Bellatrix had never suffered at the hand of them, but she had witnessed their victims countless times. Even back in third year he had been quite adept at the Dark Arts; he had used curses and hexes that Bellatrix could only have imagined, and so she was unsurprised to find that he was a Death Eater. During her fifth year, Bellatrix had had a silly one month fling with Rodolphus. He had taken her to Hogsmeade, where he had bought her a butterbeer and they kissed by the Shrieking Shack. But he was an idiot and, no sooner had Bellatrix turned her back, he was snogging Florence Prodhoe in the corner. Bellatrix watched them, smiling in spite of herself, as the Dark Lord smirked and patted Rodolphus firmly on the back; he must have done something to impress him, for both the men returned to the house looking satisfied.

Bellatrix gave a sigh and turned away from the window, before lying down on the bed. It gave a loud creak as she did, and she winced at the sensation of a spring pressing through the mattress and into her back. From that position, she could see a complex trail of cobwebs along the ceiling, and what looked to be a small patch of damp in the corner. The room was certainly nothing like what she was used to; her bed at home had been luxurious, the one at Grimmauld Place no less so, and everything had been clean and tidy. She supposed that cleanliness did not enter the brains of men as they plotted and schemed, and she cursed the fact that it ever occurred to her. Closing her eyes with a small smile, Bellatrix tried to summon some happiness to erase her foul mood. She let her mind linger on the previous night, her senses flooding with the very memory. She thought of how his hands had felt on her bare skin, of the force of his kisses. Bellatrix gave a sigh and shuddered slightly. Slowly, she sat up and climbed to her feet. She was going to explore the house, and if she happened to stumble upon the Dark Lord...she bit her lip to suppress a smirk as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

The house was a veritable warren, with corridors that wound endlessly, staircases that seemed to lead to nowhere, and what felt like a hundred different doors. Bellatrix tried to open some of them, finding them locked, or discovering rooms that were identical to hers. She had no real idea how many people lived there; was it full of Death Eaters who, like her, had become a disgrace to their families? She gave a frustrated sigh as she descended the sweeping staircase she had walked up but half an hour before, remembering the look on her aunt's face before she left.

Bellatrix hovered on the bottom step when she arrived in the small hallway, having heard voices coming from a room nearby. The hallway, like the rest of the house, was panelled with wood that was almost black, and lit by only a few meagre candles. She followed the sound of the voices down a small corridor, before finally coming to a stop in front of a door. Bellatrix hesitated for a moment, before pushing it open. A group of men were sat inside the room, none of whom Bellatrix had ever met before; they smirked upon seeing her, one of them nudging another and laughing. The Dark Lord, who was sat in a plush armchair just in front of the door, turned to look at her, his face blank of anything. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Who is this girl?" One of the men asked; a foreign twang to his voice. "Are you lost?"

"I..."

"She is no one." The Dark Lord interrupted, turning back to face his guests. "Shall we return to the point before we were interrupted?"

Bellatrix backed out of the room silently, shutting the door behind her. She leant against the wall for a moment, breathing deeply, her mouth dry. She felt as if he had punched her in the stomach; he could not have been more callous, more cruel. Bellatrix turned and walked back down the corridor, trying desperately to rid herself of the rage that was boiling inside of her. She wanted to hit something, to hex someone, anything to dissipate the feeling of abandonment, of disappointment. Stumbling into the hall, Bellatrix was met with a gaggle of men, who jeered and whistled when they saw her. One of them reached forwards and grabbed Bellatrix by the waist, dragging her towards him.

"Are you the whore we sent for?" He asked gruffly, nuzzling her neck with his nose. She pushed him, taking the opportunity of his bewilderment to step backwards and pull out her wand.

"No I am _not_." She hissed, yanking up the sleeve of her arm to reveal the Mark. "I am a Death Eater just as you are – a better one, I do not doubt. And if any of you louts wish to dispute it, I _shall _not hesitate to hex you." None of them replied but a few of them chuckled; Bellatrix pushed past them, trying to ignore the stinging of tears in her eyes.

A week passed at headquarters, and Bellatrix barely left the room. She did not dare try to explore the other rooms, for fear of meeting the Dark Lord or a lecherous group of his followers again. Instead, she stayed in the room with only the view from the window to entertain her. She watched as people came and went; sometimes catching a glimpse of Lord Voldemort who, she was certain, knew that she was watching him from above. One afternoon, Bellatrix watched as two familiar people approached the house. She recognised Lucius' disapproving sneer as he looked up at the house, before he saw Bellatrix and alerted Narcissa to her presence there. Narcissa beckoned for her to come down. They met in the hallway, before Bellatrix agreed to give her sister a tour. When they were in the privacy of her bedroom again, Bellatrix confessed her feelings to Narcissa.

"I am so lonely here, Cissy." She said with a sigh. "I am terrified of opening the wrong door at the wrong time, afraid that one of the men will take a fancy to me and...I'm tired of looking at these four walls." Narcissa looked round, as if to try and find something to make her feel better, but she could not hide her distaste.

"It is rather...drab in here. Perhaps you could speak to the Dark Lord, Bella? He seems to be...fond of you."

"I daren't." Bellatrix whispered. "I am afraid of him."

"But why?" Bellatrix explained to her sister what had happened that night, after she had left the manor. Narcissa looked shocked, her face growing a little paler than it usually was.

"I do not understand what he is doing with you, Bella." She said, shaking her head sadly. "I am beginning to fear that this is all just one long game to him – a way to entertain himself, to..."

"Please don't." Bellatrix said, turning her head to look out of the window. "It is a fear that I daren't speak aloud, even to myself. What if I have squandered everything for...for this?" She motioned at the room around her.

"Is there no way you can leave all of this?" Narcissa asked. "You could support them, as I do, but you wouldn't have to fight. Come and live with Lucius and I..."

"He would never allow it." Bellatrix bit her lip, feeling a fool before she had even admitted to it. "And I don't want to leave him. I swore to him that I was his, and I am. Entirely."

The two sisters fell silent. Narcissa gave a delicate sigh, and walked over to the window. Bellatrix watched her as she stared out of it, just as she had done, and felt a stir of envy. Narcissa was truly beautiful, with her long neck and her pale skin, unmarred by any sign of belonging. Bellatrix wanted what Narcissa had – a husband who, despite his faults, appeared to truly love her, a future that would extend beyond the machinations of the Dark Lord. Bellatrix knew then, as she watched her younger sister, that her father's warnings had been true. She had found herself inexorably deep, trapped in a situation from which she wanted to release herself . Bellatrix knew then that she would die for the Dark Lord, and it was entirely possible that it would be at his own hand.

"I am so terribly sorry." Bellatrix whispered, breaking the silence. Narcissa turned to look at her with a frown.

"Whatever for?"

"For...for papa." Bellatrix turned her face away, feeling the splashes of hot tears on her cheek. It was the first time she had cried for him, the first time she had regretted what she had done. "But he asked me to do it...he asked me and I could not refuse."

Bellatrix heard Narcissa move across the room, heard the rustle of her robes on the wooden floor, before feeling the warmth of her hand cupping her cheek. Bellatrix turned to look at her younger sister who, looking into her clear eyes, seemed so much wiser than she could ever be.

"I understand." Narcissa said honestly. "I have considered...if Lucius asked me to do something like that, for him...I would do it."

"Truly?"

"Yes." Narcissa smiled sadly. "Why do you think I am even here? I am here for the same reason that you are – because the man I love asked me to be."

"And you forgive me, Cissa?" Narcissa stared at her for a long moment, before giving a sigh and turning away.

"I don't think I will ever forgive you, Bellatrix. But what is done is done. Our father is not the first to die, and I do not doubt that he will not be the last."

That night, when Bellatrix was certain that most inhabitants of the house would be asleep, she left her room and descended the stairs. Clad in only her white nightgown, Bellatrix thought how she must have looked like a spectre in the white light of the moon, the dark shadows of the house. She went to the small sitting room that she had found on her first day in the house, and knocked thrice before stepping back. After a moment, a deep voice called for her to enter. She pushed open the door and found the Dark Lord standing there, alone. He was staring into the flames of the fire, and did not turn as Bellatrix entered, until she placed a hand gently upon his shoulder.

"My Lord..."

"Bellatrix?" He asked, turning to look at her. He looked surprised for a moment, before recovering and schooling his features into a blank expression. "I had forgotten about you. What is it?"

"My Lord...I wish to leave here." She whispered. "I feel...I do not feel that I can offer you the services you require of one of your Death Eaters. I cannot do it." Bellatrix watched, breathing deeply, as he lifted his hand and gently brushed her cheek. She closed her eyes as he continued to caress her before, suddenly, he dealt her a swift slap across the cheek.

"Oh Bella." He said, chuckling darkly. "I know that you do not mean this. Look at me now, Bellatrix, yes, that's it." Bellatrix opened her eyes and looked at him, biting her lip as she saw his malevolent smirk.

"My Lord..."

"_Silence_." He hissed. His anger was so fierce, so palpable, that it seemed as if the very air around them crackled. "In war, Bellatrix, the crime that you are trying, half-heartedly I assure you, to commit is called desertion. In the muggle war, desertion was often dealt with by firing squad...the instant death of those who attempted to flee. Do you understand?"

"Yes...yes, my Lord." Bellatrix closed her eyes. "Are you going to kill me?"

He was silent for a moment. It seemed to Bellatrix as if her words were expanding, filling up the entire room until she was unable to breathe.

"No." He stepped towards her, stopping about a foot away. Bellatrix opened her eyes slowly. "If you truly wished to leave me, Bellatrix, you would have done it without telling a soul. Coming here to me, telling me in this way and dressed so ridiculously, suggests that you had no intention of doing it at all. You want something. Tell me what it is."

"I want you." She breathed. "Just you." He smirked smugly, before leaning towards her and gently pressing his lips against hers. They kissed for a moment, Bellatrix passive and the Dark Lord insistent.

"I have neglected you." He confessed, his voice so deep and low that it was barely audible. "I shall make amends, and give you what you desire, Bellatrix. But first, you must be punished."

Bellatrix's eyes widened as he stepped backwards and withdrew his wand, pointing it at her lazily.

"_Crucio_." She fell to her knees instantly, the pain tearing through her. Bellatrix screamed at the intensity of his spell; she felt as if every inch of her flesh was on fire, as if he were driving nails into her skull, or stabbing her repeatedly in the heart with her own dagger. She reached out her hands, slumping to the floor and writhing helplessly, her arms and legs flailing as she continued to scream.

After what felt like an age, the torture ended. Bellatrix led on her back, her eyes fixed emptily on the ceiling as she felt the final throes of the curse pass over her body. Her chest heaved, her ribs aching and her head throbbing. Bellatrix felt tears run down her cheeks as she watched the Dark Lord bend and lift her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into the collar of his robes and breathing in the scent that was so terribly uniquely him.

"My Lord..." She whispered. "My Lord."

"Hush." He brushed a lock of her hair away from her face. "I hope that you are now aware of your importance Bellatrix, and the necessity that you remain by my side. Do you understand?"

"Yes." She whispered. "Yes, my Lord. I understand."

"You shall join me for breakfast, in this room tomorrow at nine prompt. There is much that I need to discuss. But for now, you must sleep."

He carried her up the stairs then, along the winding corridors to the small room that he had designated as hers. Some Death Eaters were gathered in the hall, and they stopped to watch as they passed, uncertain as to what the meaning of this was, but sure that it would be important. Once Voldemort had laid Bellatrix upon her bed, he left the room and gave a snap of his fingers. A bedraggled house elf appeared, bowing at her master's feet.

"What can I do for you, master?"

"You must move her to the room adjacent to mine tomorrow, elf. She is ready."


	10. Ten

_Author's Note: As it's been such a long time since this fic was updated, I've added two new chapters! Please let me know what you think!  
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><p><em>June 1974.<em>

As had been ordered, Bellatrix awoke the next day to house elves packing her things, ready to move her to the room nearest to Lord Voldemort's. She found herself relocated to the dungeons, to a room that was three times the size of her previous one, containing a large four-poster bed with luxurious bedclothes, a dressing table and a wardrobe, and a bathroom with a bath that was almost the size of a swimming pool. Bellatrix leant against the dressing table with a satisfied smile upon her face, fiddling with a quill that she found inside one of the drawers; she knew that it must have been very expensive, for it was made from a beautiful peacock feather.

"Tell me," Bellatrix said to one of the house elves who were slowly filling the wardrobe with her clothes, "Why have I been moved to this room?"

"The Dark Lord is demanding it, miss." The house elf replied. Bellatrix gave a delighted giggle to herself and walked over to the bed, still clutching the quill as she flopped ungracefully onto it. Suddenly, she noticed a door opposite the bed, which she had heretofore not seen. Bellatrix sat up and looked at it, frowning.

"Where does that door lead to?"

"That door is leading through to the Dark Lord's room, miss. He is saying that you is not using it unless he is giving permission."

"But he can use it whenever he chooses?"

"Oh yes, miss."

Bellatrix felt her stomach flip at the very idea. She was thrilled, of course, that the Dark Lord had done such a thing for her, but it also confused her greatly. Bellatrix supposed that it was his way of encouraging her to stay, of proving to her that she was, as he had said, important. Folding her arms and fixing her eyes on the door, Bellatrix willed him to come through it. After a moment or two of being unsuccessful, however, she gave another sigh and fell backwards again.

"If Lucius and Narcissa come to the house, will you tell them that I'm here? Invite them to visit?" She asked, uncertain as to whether the house elf was still there, for she could not see it.

"Of course, miss. But I has to tell you, miss, that the Dark Lord is asking you to join him for dinner in his quarters this evening." Bellatrix bit her lip in a bid to hide her triumphant smile.

"I see...what time?"

"You is having to go through to the next room at 7:30 prompt in your very best dress, miss."

"If you see him, elf, you must tell him that I can barely wait."

Bellatrix dined with him that evening, and almost every other evening for the next three months. She became his confidante; there was no greater thrill for Bellatrix than when he approached her with a problem, as if she were the only person in the whole world on whom he could depend. But she was his lover too, and as he thrust into her as if enraged, she would cry out that she belonged to him again and again and again. Bellatrix found herself wishing that she could keep the nature of their relationship a secret; she swore that he was different when he was with her, that she could discreetly control him in a way that would not be permissible in any of the other Death Eaters. But this fact did not remain a secret for long – everyone who served the Dark Lord, who visited that house, knew of Bellatrix Black's influence. If they wanted to be included in the next raid, a casual mention of it to Bellatrix would be sufficient to ensure it, or if they had complaints or grumbles about how things were being done...the surest way to be _crucioed_ by Lord Voldemort himself was to mention such a thing around her.

But it was not solely amongst the ranks of the Death Eaters that Bellatrix was gaining a reputation. In the wider Wizarding World, she was becoming increasingly known for her violence. In the daily newspapers, a mention of her name alone was enough to send shudders; she burned down houses, she cursed children, and murdered their parents in the most brutal ways imaginable. It was also becoming increasingly known that she was high in the Death Eater ranks; some had even taken to calling her the Dark Lord's right hand man, so favoured and so feared was she. Her wanted poster was plastered all over the walls of Diagon Alley, but anyone who had ever experienced an encounter with Bellatrix Black usually came out of it dead or unable to tell anyone about it.

One afternoon in the middle of May, Bellatrix had been walking in the garden, and came back inside to find a group of Death Eaters gathered in the hallway. She walked past them expecting, as usual, the typical greeting of a bow and a murmured 'hello'; however, the men simply looked at her, staring blankly as she passed. Bellatrix came to a stop and turned to look at them, frowning slightly and folding her arms. The men, who had been whispering amongst themselves, stopped when they realised she was looking.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" She snapped. "You should remember who exactly I am."

"Aye, perhaps _you_ should too." One of the men shouted, chuckling. "The sister of a mudblood-marrying whore." Bellatrix's face flushed red with rage, and she strode towards the Death Eater, waving her wand briskly. The man was being choked by invisible ropes, and he scrambled with his hands as if trying to remove them.

"What are you talking about?" She demanded. "My sister is married to Lucius Malfoy who, I _assure you_, is as pure-blooded as the Dark Lord himself!"

"What about your other sister?" One of the other men shouted, the rest of them laughing and jeering. Suddenly, however, they fell silent, and all of them stared in horror at something behind Bellatrix's back.

"Bellatrix, kindly let Thacker go." Bellatrix waved her wand and spun on her heels, turning to face the Dark Lord who stood in the doorway. She licked her lips nervously and pocketed her wand.

"I apologise, my Lord." She whispered. "But these fools have been accusing me of something, but of what I am currently not entirely certain."

"Perhaps you had better come with me, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix followed him down the dark corridor and into his small study, her entire body numb. She sat down in one of the armchairs, watching carefully as he too sat down and folded his arms across his chest. He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed slightly, and Bellatrix knew that he was once again assessing her, as he had done that night so long ago.

"When was the last time you spoke to your younger sister Andromeda?" Bellatrix frowned.

"Not since the night I killed my father, my Lord." She replied. "Why is it that you ask?"

"I am glad that you are not in contact with her, for I have heard news that she has today become the worst kind of witch or wizard. She is a blood traitor."

"I...I don't understand." Bellatrix responded. "I know that Andromeda took the same stance as my father, but she has _always _been in support of pureblood superiority. I know my sister, my Lord."

"Perhaps you do not know her as well as you think." He leant over to the small table, and picked up a piece of parchment. Bellatrix recognised the seal – the letter was from her family. "I received this letter from your mother this morning, informing me that the Black family has officially disowned Andromeda for, unbeknownst to them all until this very day, she has married a mudblood by the name of Ted Tonks."

Bellatrix felt a flood of shame and anger wash over her, and she dug the edges of her nails into the leather of the armchair. The Dark Lord rose from the chair, and Bellatrix watched him silently as he paced the length of the room. She gave a sigh and closed her eyes.

"My loyalty and dedication to our cause has been questioned, I am no longer trusted by the men and so can no longer be trusted by you. My presence is now no longer required in this house." Bellatrix stated quietly. "I understand, my Lord, but I beg of you to reconsider. I _am _dedicated to you, my Lord; I have sacrificed everything to be at your side, and I would sacrifice yet more. I shall kill my sister and her filth of a husband with my bare hands, if that is what you require." Bellatrix's mouth snapped shut as the Dark Lord held up his hand to silence her.

"That will not be required, Bellatrix. It is true that your loyalty is currently under scrutiny amongst my followers, but anyone who openly dares to question it shall be punished by me. I have no doubts of your loyalty, and your presence here is as much of a necessity to me as it was before."

Bellatrix rushed forward and fell to her knees in front of him. She closed her eyes and gave a contented sigh, her relief threatening to overwhelm her.

"Thank you, my Lord. _Thank you_." He placed a hand atop her head, before sweeping it along her face and cupping her chin, tilting her head to look at him.

"Stand, Bellatrix. If I desired for you to genuflect before me, I would demand it." Bellatrix did as she was told, dusting off her robes before linking her hands behind her back. "However, I do have a request to make of you. A task that, should you accept it, ought to confirm your loyalties to my Death Eaters."

"What is it, my Lord?" She asked almost desperately. "As I have sworn to you many times before, I would do anything for you..."

"It cannot be revealed to you as yet, Bellatrix. You must be patient; you must wait for the proper time." Bellatrix felt her heart drop slightly, and her feelings must have flashed upon her face, for the Dark Lord dragged a fingernail along the length of her chin, smirking at her in a way that could only be described as fond. "You are afraid, I know. But you must trust me, Bellatrix. You must trust me when I say that, when the time comes, the whole world will be in no doubt that it is you I trust above all others."

* * *

><p><em>New Years Eve 1974<em>

Thousands and thousands of stars, stretching out as far as Bellatrix could see, blinking in the darkness, surrounding the moon. Bellatrix gave a great sigh, her breath puffing out in front of her, visible in the winter night's air. She found it easy to understand the weakness and frailty of humankind when she looked at the night sky; it showed just how insignificant human life was, and how very little it took to destroy it. The very thought of this made Bellatrix's heart ache with longing, although for what she pined she could not be certain. She had everything she had ever wanted – what more could she possibly need? A hand on her shoulder distracted her from her reverie, and Bellatrix turned to see Lucius standing behind her. Bellatrix folded her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"What are you doing here, Lucius? I thought the Dark Lord had given you leave this evening. You are not listed for this mission."

"Indeed I was not supposed to be here, but the Dark Lord requested my presence here specifically; Rodolphus Lestrange and I are to lead the mission."

"That is an honour for you." Bellatrix replied, shifting slightly. A heavy sensation of dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

"Yes. Rodolphus and I believe we are in line for some kind of promotion." Lucius turned slightly, and cast a fleeting glance towards the gathered group of men that waited for his instruction. "That is not the only reason I am here...the Dark Lord also requested that you return to Headquarters."

"What?" Bellatrix hissed, narrowing her eyes. "Did he say why? Is this a punishment?"

"He did not seem angry, Bellatrix, but I suggest that you do not tarry. He is waiting for you."

Bellatrix pushed Lucius out of the way and stormed past the group of men, disapparating mid-stride. She reappeared at the gate of the Headquarters, flinging it open moodily and storming up to the house. When she came into the hallway, however, she came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the Dark Lord waiting for her. He did not speak, but simply stood staring at her in stoic silence.

"My Lord..." She said quietly. "Lucius told me to return. I hope I have not displeased you."

"You have not. You have pleased me greatly, as you so often do. Come with me, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix followed him down the hallway in silence, before they entered the sitting room. He motioned for her to sit down, and Bellatrix did so as she watched the Dark Lord pour two tumblers of Scotch. The Dark Lord took a seat opposite her, and watched Bellatrix in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Bellatrix could stand it no longer, and she broke the silence.

"My Lord, I do not understand. Why did you pull me from the mission tonight? I was looking forward to it; I'm just as capable as completing the job as any of the other men, I –"

"I'm sorry that I disappointed you, Bellatrix." The Dark Lord said. "But Lucius and Rodolphus deserve their chance to prove themselves; I have high hopes for both of them, but they must show that they are worthy of it first. Don't you want your sister's husband to have the chance to better himself, for the benefit of your family?"

"Of course, my Lord, of course!" Bellatrix replied with a sigh. "But _I _want the chance to prove myself to you too; I can do this, my Lord, I swear I can."

"Your eagerness to serve me is pleasing, but you are proving yourself by staying here with me, Bellatrix. Remember, that is why you are here – to do as I say, for I am your master." Bellatrix nodded slowly, but she could not keep the disappointment from her face. The Dark Lord gave a deep chuckle. "Very well. If you wish for something to occupy you, there is something you can do for me."

"Anything, my Lord." Bellatrix replied eagerly, leaning forwards in her chair. "What is it you wish for me to do?"

"As you know, the mission tonight is an important one. The Bones family have much influence in Dumbledore's little army, and they are known for being one of the worst family of blood traitors in the country. If my men kill them tonight, eradicate them from the earth, it will send a big sign to Dumbledore and those mudbloods he loves so much."

"Of course, my Lord, and I look forward to your victory." Bellatrix licked her lips. "But if I am not to be part of this mission, what can I do?"

"If this victory is made, Bellatrix, I want my men to celebrate like kings. Organise a party for them, a grand celebration, for when they return."

"A...a party?" Bellatrix mumbled numbly. "You want me to organise a party?"

"Indeed. I have already summoned Narcissa here to help you. I suggest you start immediately, if you wish to be ready for when the Death Eaters return."

"Of...of course." Bellatrix stood hastily. "Thank you, my Lord. I will try my best to please you."

As Bellatrix left the room, it took every ounce of her being not to scream in frustration. She was a Death Eater, just like the others. The Dark Lord had said himself that she was powerful, she had trained under his own tutelage, learnt her magic from his own books. And yet, all he deemed her good for was organising frivolous parties for the real warriors? Bellatrix flung open the doors of the dining room and gave a throaty growl, which scared Narcissa who was waiting for her there. Her younger sister turned around and gave her a weak smile, holding out her hands to her. Bellatrix took them, giving Narcissa a small hug before sighing.

"I had a feeling you would be displeased about this." Narcissa said quietly.

"Of course I am displeased! I fought to be here, Cissy, I did things of which I am not proud and for what? To sit around all day organising parties for men who are doing the _real _work? _Merlin_!" Bellatrix pointed her wand at the window and growled in satisfaction as it shattered into tiny pieces. Narcissa gave an impatient sigh and removed her own wand, waving it gently and watching as the window repaired itself.

"I don't believe destroying the house will change the Dark Lord's mind, Bellatrix." Narcissa said with a small shrug. "Just go along with his plans, and who knows how you will be rewarded..."

"But I don't even know where to start!" Bellatrix cried, flopping into the chair. "This is not the kind of thing I do – this isn't me. I thought he knew that, but..."

"That's why I'm here to help you, Bellatrix. Now, take this parchment and take it to the house elves in the kitchen. We don't have much time."

Two hours later, with the help of Narcissa and the house elves, Bellatrix had decorated the entirety of Headquarters to the theme of Arabian Nights. The dining hall was full of hanging drapes, plush cushions, delicate lanterns and a whole menagerie of animals including snakes and peacocks, roaming freely around the house. In spite of her reluctance, Bellatrix was proud of what she and Narcissa had accomplished; the house looked truly magical, a party fit for victors. The men returned from the mission, having completed exactly what they had set out to do. Edgar and Carlotta Bones, as well as their two children Maud and Maxwell, were dead – two more powerful members of the Order of the Phoenix destroyed as a message to everyone that the Death Eaters were on the rise. The Dark Lord was in the highest of spirits, laughing and conversing with everyone, moving around the room as powerful as ever. Bellatrix sat in the centre of the room, watching as he circled her, wishing that it would not be so insolent to approach him.

Suddenly, the Dark Lord stopped and clapped his hands, sending the sound echoing around the room. A hush fell, and everyone turned to look at him; the urge to scratch out the eyes of everyone in that room threatened to overwhelm Bellatrix, she wanted to be the only one to see him. The only one. The Dark Lord held up his hands.

"My followers, my humble servants, my Death Eaters. You have surpassed yourselves! Tonight...we are..._victorious_!" The Death Eaters gave a rousing cheer, and even Bellatrix managed to summon a smile. "Now, we must celebrate, and it is all thanks to Bellatrix that we have this wonderful party tonight." Bellatrix felt her heart leap when he extended a hand towards her. She stood slowly and walked towards him, jumping a little when the room broke into a round of applause. She took the Dark Lord's hand, and he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her body roughly against his. There was an audible gasp as the Dark Lord bent down and kissed the top of Bellatrix's head, and Bellatrix felt as if her heart had swelled so much it would burst.

"Thank you, my Lord." She whispered. "Thank you."

"You will lead the next mission, Bellatrix." He whispered to her. "The glory of victory will be entirely yours. Does this please you?"

"Yes my Lord, most definitely yes!"

"My followers!" Voldemort said loudly. "Bellatrix and I are to retire and celebrate the New Year alone. As the clock turns to midnight, remember that the year of 1975 is _our year_. The year we will be truly triumphant. Good night."

The Dark Lord led Bellatrix out of the dining room, heading towards his bed chambers. Bellatrix sat cross-legged on the middle of the large four-poster bed, her head tilted to one side as she watched the Dark Lord cross the room. He walked over to the chest of drawers that stood in the corner and opened the bottom one, removing from it a small locked black iron box. The box rattled of its own accord as he placed it down, and Bellatrix could feel a strange kind of pulse emitting from it; it made her feel unusual, as if her head was full of fog, and her heart full of tar.

"What is that, my Lord?" She whispered tentatively.

"It is a possession of great importance." The Dark Lord replied solemnly. He pressed his mouth against the lock of the box, and Bellatrix jumped as he made a low hissing sound. The lid of the box popped open with a quiet clicking sound, revealing a small golden cup, upon which a badger was engraved. The Dark Lord took the cup by both handles and carried it across the room, placing it in front of Bellatrix on the bed. Bellatrix reached out her hand tentatively, hesitated a moment and looked at the Dark Lord for approval, before brushing her fingertips against the engraving. Her body seemed to thrum at the touch of the metal on her skin, and it seemed to originate from the very depths of the cup. The Dark Lord's eyes were shut, and Bellatrix was surprised to see how at peace he seemed. She picked up the cup by the handles and looked at it more closely.

"I don't understand what this is, my Lord..." Voldemort opened his eyes and looked at her steadily for a moment.

"It is the cup of Helga Hufflepuff. It was a gift from a friend of mine, a gift that I received many years ago..."

"It is beautiful, my Lord...but it does something very unusual to me. I don't understand why that is."

"That is something that I will not tell you. That shall remain a secret." He tapped his finger against his lip.

"Then why have you shown this to me, my Lord?"

"Because I am giving it to you, Bella. I am entrusting this to your protection. Put it in your family vaults, secure it against being found. I am putting my most prized possession into your hands."

Bellatrix looked at the Dark Lord open-mouthed, her heart hammering wildly. She picked up the cup and held it against her chest, the sound of her own heartbeat seemingly echoing back at her. She was breathless with delight, and yet terrified at the prospect of what this meant.

"I am so...I am so grateful that you trust me with this, my Lord."

"You are my most devoted follower, Bella. And my most trusted. Some, I dare say, would call you my right-hand man."

"I cannot express how much this means to me."

"You need not try."

In the distance, a clock began to chime twelve. Bellatrix left the cup on the bed and stood up, walking slowly towards the Dark Lord. She took a deep breath, before taking the liberty of placing her hands upon his chest, reaching up onto her tiptoes and pressing her lips against his. His hand snaked up and rested at the base of her throat, gradually tightening his grip as her kiss grew more fervent and her breath became shorter. Just before she felt as if she would faint, the Dark Lord released her and gave a lusty growl, pushing her back onto the bed. Bellatrix gasped as he left a trail of bruising kisses across her arm and up onto her neck, her fingernails digging into his back.

"My Lord, this is your year, my Lord." She gasped as he lifted her robes, as his fingers tripped up her inner thigh. "_Your year._"

"No, Bella, it is _yours_."


	11. Eleven

_May 1975_

The Prewett twins, Fabian and Gideon, were two of the most popular wizards in the whole of Britain. No party invitation list was complete without the inclusion of the twins, who had friends all over the country, from the Isle of Man to Portsmouth, and not one person had a bad word to say about either of them. This popularity made their network of information infallible; they could discover what the Minister of Magic had for breakfast after one Floo call, or who a shopkeeper in Hogsmeade had spent the night with, or even the identity of the newest Death Eater recruit...Gideon and Fabian Prewett were the best tool that the Order of the Phoenix had, and they had to go.

Bellatrix stood in the sitting room at Headquarters, her head bent over the desk, which was covered in scribbled notes and maps. She gave a frustrated sigh and buried her hand amongst her hair, pulling at it gently as she leant forwards and picked up the most prominent piece of parchment. It was a list of those who Bellatrix would be leading in the mission. Five of them, including her, were to attend: Rodolphus Lestrange, Lucius, Dolohov and Meydrick. The Dark Lord believed that that would be enough to finish off the biggest threat that the Order had, but Bellatrix was not entirely certain if that were true. She felt a great pressure for everything to be perfect; this was the first mission that she had been permitted to lead, and the consequences of this mission failing...she did not like to think of them. Giving another sigh, Bellatrix threw the list down and picked up another slip of parchment. It was a detailed plan of the Prewetts' home, which Bellatrix had copied out time and time again. She had gone over the route with the men several times, she knew it through and through, and yet she was still terrified.

There was a small knock on the door, signalling that it was time for Bellatrix to leave. She looked up at the sound and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror that hung over the fireplace; her face was wan, her cheekbones jutted out, her eyes were wide with fear. Any trace of the plump prettiness that she used to have was fading fast; she seemed to look older and older by the day. With a sigh, her eyelids fluttered closed to blot out the sight, before she turned on her heels and headed towards the door, yanking it open to find Lucius standing there. He reached out and put a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

"Are you ready? The men are growing restless."

Bellatrix removed his hand and pushed past him, heading down the corridor towards the hallway with wide and determined strides. The small group of Death Eaters turned when she arrived, their disgruntled mumbling coming to an abrupt end. Bellatrix put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes as Lucius moved to join them.

"I'm not going to give you any rousing speech; you all know why we're here and what we're fighting for. You know the plan, you know the goal. Let's just go and get on with it."

Bellatrix disapparated, arriving seconds later on a beach on the Cornish coast. The sea roared loudly, for a storm was brewing overhead, and the din disguised the pops of the rest of the men arriving. Bellatrix's hair and robes billowed wildly behind her as she made her way along the beach, her heavy boots dragging in the sand and she tripped over rocks and driftwood. They were heading towards a cottage that loomed in the distance, in which Fabian and Gideon Prewett were soundly sleeping, ignorant to the fact that they would at any moment be killed. Bellatrix came to a stop a little distance away from the house and took it in; the cottage was beautiful, entirely embedded with seashells that had been buffed and polished by the sea winds. She could imagine leading an idyllic life there, isolated from the troubles of the rest of the world, with only the sea and the seagulls for company. It saddened her a little that they would have to destroy it.

Turning slightly, Bellatrix beckoned for the men to approach, and stood back a little as they stepped forwards. Lucius and Meydrick began waving their wands, breaking down the wards that surrounded the property, as Rodolphus and Dolohov set off to the other side of the house. Bellatrix watched as they worked, her heart racing and her palms sweating. At first, it seemed as if everything was going swimmingly; Bellatrix could feel as each of the wards fell successfully and silently, and she knew that they were down to the final two. However, a piercing scream suddenly rang out around the beach, causing all three of them to double over with their fingers in their ears, the pain of the sounds ringing excruciatingly in their ears.

"What does that mean?" Bellatrix shrieked. "Lucius, Meydrick, what does that _mean_?" Dolohov and Rodolphus came running towards them, looking similarly anguished and gasping loudly.

"They know we're here!" Rodolphus shouted. "Gideon came to the window as soon as the alarm started, he saw us!"

"The Order will be here any minute!" Meydrick yelled, looking around wildly. "We need to abort, Bellatrix."

"No!" She cried back, panic beginning to set in. "We must stay and fight! Fabian and Gideon Prewett are to be exterminated _tonight_. It is the Dark Lord's wish. Prepare to duel."

At that moment, a dozen or so popping sounds announced the apparation of the Order. Bellatrix spun round and deflected a spell that had been sent her way, giving off a cry of frustration as her own hex missed. Rodolphus ran off towards the sea, duelling fiercely with an aged wizard of whom he quickly disposed, as Lucius, Meydrick and Dolohov dealt with the other members who had arrived. Bellatrix looked everywhere she could, but she could see neither of the Prewett twins out amongst the fray. She gave a growl of disgruntlement.

"I am going to the house to find the target! Stay focused, fight well!"

It was a struggle to get to the house, but Bellatrix finally gained entry through one of the downstairs windows. She looked around the kitchen frantically, before pushing open the door and heading out into the rest of the house. It was quite amazing, she thought to herself as she crept up the stairs, how the sound of the fight was not audible within the house, but the crashing of the sea could still be heard. Bellatrix pushed kicked open the door of the first room she came across, pointing her wand in with a jab, only to find that it was empty. She gave a small sigh as she went to the next room, turning the handle slowly and opening it to find both of the twins standing there, their wands pointing directly at her. Bellatrix gave a dark chuckle and shook her head.

"We knew you would come for us sooner or later." Fabian said quietly. "I think you underestimate just how much we know about you, your master and his followers, Bellatrix Black."

"We know how your minds work, just as you know ours. This fight isn't as unequal as you think it is." Gideon added.

"It rather is though, don't you think?" Bellatrix answered with a smirk. "Two against one doesn't seem very fair to me..._Avada Kedavra!_" Fabian was struck by the curse and fell to the ground in a flash of emerald light. Bellatrix laughed loudly as Gideon fell beside him, clutching onto his brother with tears streaming down his face. Gideon turned to look at her, as Bellatrix spoke laughingly. "What's the matter? Lost for words, Gideon?"

Suddenly, Bellatrix felt tight arms grip her, and the blunt end of a wand pressed against her throat. The hairs all over her body stood on edge, her muscles tensed, as Gideon began to laugh at her.

"_Incarcerous_!" Bellatrix gave a quiet groan as ropes shot out and bound her arms and legs, before she was pushed into the room and forced against the wall. No matter how she twisted or turned, she could not see who her attacker was, for her head was pressed against the wall. Gideon stood remained stood by his brother, his wand pointed at Bellatrix.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" He demanded. "Did you think I would just let you kill us both without a fight? Okay, Dorcas, we need to get her out of here."

"Can't we just...can't we just handle this ourselves, Gideon?" The woman who was holding Bellatrix replied.

"What do you mean? We need to take her to the aurors...Moody's outside! He wants this one for himself..."

"But I have waited _so long _for this. We deserve revenge for what she has done to us. She killed half of my family...our friends...your brother is lying dead beside you because of what _she_ has done!"

"We...we can't, Dorcas. We're supposed to hand them straight over; we can only kill if our own life is in danger."

"Well how will they know that we weren't in danger? Come on, Gideon... don't you want revenge just a little?"

"I...No. I can't do this, Dorcas."

"_Go then_!" She hissed. "Leave me here and I shall take care of her! Go, Gideon, before I do something I regret and tie you up too!"

Bellatrix wriggled wildly as she heard Gideon run from the room, tripping over something in his bid to escape. Suddenly, the woman grabbed hold of her shoulders and spun her round, allowing Bellatrix to see her captor for the first time. She was a woman in her late thirties, with long curly hair and wide eyes that had no doubt been innocent once, but were now full of loathing and despair. She looked at Bellatrix for a long moment, before swiftly bringing her hand down and giving her a sharp slap across the face.

"Did that make you feel better?" Bellatrix muttered. "If I knew who you were and what I'd done to you, I would feel better about the torture. I'd like to know if I merited it."

"You killed my mother and my sister last summer." Dorcas spat angrily. "You murdered them in cold blood, without even a second thought about why or what the consequences would be! My mother was in her seventies, my sister had a baby, a husband..."

"I remember them well – Tabitha and Lydia Meadowes...It was such a pleasure meeting them, such a joy to watch the light fade from their eyes..."

"You _bitch_! _Crucio_!" Bellatrix's head flung backwards as the curse hit her straight in the chest, banging it against the wall. She winced at the intensity of the spell; all of Dorcas' hatred and loathing poured out of her and soared through Bellatrix's veins. The pain was so excruciating that Bellatrix's knees buckled and she fell to the floor, her arms and ankles still bound by the magical ropes. The fight must have moved slightly, for Bellatrix could hear it now; she could hear the voices of her men, shouting instructions at one another, hurtling curses. She wondered if any of them had noticed that she had gone – she supposed not, for no one had tried to look for her. Bellatrix gave a sigh and shut her eyes, resigning herself to her biggest fear. She was probably going to die that night. Dorcas Meadowes would kill her, there at Shell Cottage, and she would never return to the Dark Lord. Would he mourn her? She tried to summon an image of him crying by her graveside, but no picture would come. It would never happen.

Such a hollow feeling took over her when Bellatrix thought of never being near the Dark Lord again. She felt as if she might lose her very head, or go completely insane, if she had to contemplate the idea for much longer. A salty taste suddenly arrived in her mouth, and Bellatrix realised that tears were streaming down her face. She gave a groan of misery and opened her eyes, meeting Dorcas' gaze.

"Just put me out of my misery." Bellatrix moaned. "Just do what you intend to and kill me."

"No. Mercy would be too good for you. You don't deserve my kindness. _Brackium_!" Bellatrix gave a loud scream as one of the bones in her left arm gave a loud crack. Dorcas gave a satisfied smirk, and pointed her wand at Bellatrix's leg. "_Brackium_!" Bellatrix gave another loud scream and wriggled slightly, as pain soared through her body, before recovering enough to give a dark chuckle.

"Come on, Dorcas. You're only doing this because you're afraid of finishing it off." She taunted. "Do the deed..._kill me_."

"I think I might just break your neck." Dorcas hissed, stepping forwards and pressing her wand against Bellatrix's throat. "_Bra _– "

"_No!_" Bellatrix looked behind Dorcas to see Rodolphus standing in the doorway."_Avada_ –"

Dorcas disapparated before Rodolphus even had time to finish the curse. He rushed towards Bellatrix and severed the ropes with his wand. Bellatrix reached out and squeezed his hand gently, giving a weak smile.

"_Thank you_." She moaned, the room swimming before her, before falling into unconsciousness.

Rodolphus stepped backwards and gave a sigh, running his hand through his hair. At that moment, Lucius and Dolohov ran into the room, their eyes wide at the sight of Bellatrix slumped unconscious on the floor.

"They've gone." Lucius said. "Disapparated when they realised that the fight was over."

"Gideon? Did you get him?"

"Yes." Dolohov answered. "Meydrick cast the final blow...but he was caught seconds later by Moody...they took him away."

"_Shit_." Rodolphus muttered. "They won't get anything from him though, thank goodness. He doesn't know enough to be a threat to any of us."

"What happened to Bellatrix?" Lucius asked, stepping forwards and kneeling beside his sister-in-law.

"Dorcas Meadowes got hold of her...It's a good job I got here when I did, or she would be finished."

"The Dark Lord isn't going to be happy about this..."

"No." Rodolphus sighed, shaking his head slowly. "Merlin help us when we have to face his rage."

Rodolphus bent down and swept Bellatrix into his arms, her body sagging lifelessly. He held her tightly, before disapparating and arriving in the hallway of Headquarters. Lucius and Dolohov followed Rodolphus down the hallway to the Dark Lord's study. Lucius knocked three times, before pushing open the door and guiding Bellatrix into the room. The Dark Lord, who was sitting inside, stood when they entered and marched over to Bellatrix; he placed the back of his hand against her forehead, frowning for a moment, before turning his gaze to Rodolphus.

"What happened to her? Who did this?" He intoned darkly.

"It was Dorcas Meadowes, my Lord." Rodolphus said quietly. "She had Bellatrix cornered..."

The Dark Lord began to pace the width of the study, his long robes trailing behind him as his brows furrowed in thought. He gave a loud click of his fingers and a house elf appeared, looking timidly around the room.

"Yes, master? What can I do for master?"

"Take Bellatrix to her rooms. Heal her, make her well. Contact her sister and bring her here immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master."

The house elf placed a hand on Bellatrix's wrist, before disappearing as suddenly as it arrived, taking Bellatrix with it. The Dark Lord motioned for the men to sit down, which they did in silence, never removing their eyes from their master.

"The Prewett twins?" The Dark Lord asked quietly.

"Dead, my Lord."

"And Meydrick?"

"Arrested." Lucius replied.

"That is of no matter." The Dark Lord said, tapping his chin pensively. "He was of little use to me. Tell me, gentlemen, how Dorcas Meadowes was able to hurt Bellatrix so terribly?"

"She had her in one of the bedrooms, my Lord..." Rodolphus answered. "I did a quick check, and she used the Cruciatus Curse extensively, before breaking both her arm and her leg...Dorcas was about to use the breaking curse on Bellatrix's neck as I entered..."

The Dark Lord gave a roar of rage, and he toppled over the desk, before waving his wand and setting it alight. Lucius, Dolohov and Rodolphus cowered as Voldemort spun to face them, pointing his wand at Lucius.

"She is your wife's sister, why did you do nothing to protect her? _Crucio_!" Lucius gave a gasp and fell from his chair, such was the force of his master's curse. After a few moments, the Dark Lord waved his wand again and ended the torture, also extinguishing the fire on the desk.

"My Lord..." Rodolphus said quietly. "There is a subject of a sensitive nature that I must broach with you, my Lord."

"What is it?"

"It is...it is about Bellatrix, my Lord."

"What _about_ her, you fool? If you do not speak soon, I shall kill you, Rodolphus. Mark my words, I shall kill you."

"She was a target." Lucius blurted, gasping for breath as he climbed back onto the chair. "They kept shouting it to one another: 'make sure you get Black, look for Black'".

"What? Why?"

"I managed to ask one of them, my Lord. I was torturing them for information." Dolohov said quietly. "They...they believe that she is your weakness, my Lord. They believe that you...that you _love_ her, and to capture her would be to damage you most gravely."

"I see." The Dark Lord hissed, his eyes fixed on a spot in the distance, his mind immersed in thought.

"My Lord..." Rodolphus said tentatively. "I mean this with all due respect, but this cannot go on, my Lord. You must not be seen to have any weakness – we here know that you do not have any, my Lord – but it is dangerous for others to believe that you do."

"You are quite right." The Dark Lord repeated quietly. "This cannot continue; it must be rectified."

The three men sitting before him waited patiently as the Dark Lord began to pace once more, before coming to a stop and turning to face them again. They squirmed as their master seemed to inspect every inch of them, his dark eyes flicking across their faces, as if he was sucking in every aspect of their souls. After a moment, he narrowed his eyes and waved his hand.

"Lucius, Dolohov, you may go. Rodolphus, I wish to speak with you further. Stay here, I shall return."

The Dark Lord left the room and walked the halls, slowly and silently. He entered Bellatrix's bedroom, dismissing the house elf with just a wave of his hand, and approaching the bed upon which she led unconsciously. For a moment, he stood at the bottom of the bed and watched her with steady eyes; he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair led fanned out on her pillow, her slightly opened lips. It was unusual how, were it not for the obvious fact of her breathing, she seemed to be dead. The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes, and turned to leave but, before he did, he stopped and faced her again. With a wave of his hand, a single lily in a vase appeared by the side of her bed. He gave a small nod, before finally leaving Bellatrix alone.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Firstly, many apologies for the delay in updating this fic! Real life took over completely: I had exams, passed my second year of university (with a 2:1 no less), and moved home for the summer before I spend the next year living in Germany and France. As you can imagine, I haven't had much time for fan fiction, and I probably won't for the foreseeable future. I will continue updating this fic, however, because I hate seeing things unfinished! So here are two chapters for your enjoyment; i hope they were worth the wait! Please let me know what you like/dislike about them. Many thanks. :)_


	12. Twelve

_May 1975._

Bellatrix gave a sigh as she woke, as the world around her gradually sprung into life. She remained still for a moment, her eyes closed, and felt the soft breeze from the open window sweep across her face, listened as the birds chirped in the trees. She was grateful that it was still possible for her to hear and to feel, that she had survived the previous night. In the two years since Bellatrix had taken the Dark Mark, she had never come quite as close to losing her life before. She realised, as she lay there in the sumptuous surroundings of her bedroom, that she had always had a childish view of death; she had somehow thought herself to be above it, as if it were only something that happened to the weak, to the powerless. But as Dorcas Meadowes had pointed her wand at her...Bella had been convinced that she was about to lose her life. She made a silent promise then that she would never let it happen to her again.

Bellatrix finally opened her eyes, and turned slightly to see that someone had placed a lily on her bedside table. She reached out and gently brushed it with one finger, giving a small smile. Beside the bed, Narcissa sat slumped in the chair in the corner. She was sleeping soundly, her chest gently rising and falling, and Bellatrix was somewhat touched at the fact that she had stayed with her for the entire night. Bellatrix climbed out of the bed and gently woke her up, stepping back as Narcissa opened her eyes and stretched her arms above her head.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Cissy. You didn't look very comfortable."

"I wasn't." Narcissa gave a yawn, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth. "How are you this morning? I hope you aren't too shaken after last night." Bellatrix perched on the edge of the bed, and ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm fine. I...I'm grateful to Rodolphus for saving me...I can't really explain how scared I was."

"I saw Lucius when I arrived here...he said that she hurt you quite badly. I was worried about you."

"Yes, she did." Bellatrix shifted slightly. "Narcissa...does the Dark Lord know what happened to me?"

"The men took you to him straight away, the Dark Lord made instructions for your care himself." Narcissa replied. "He is...he is very angry and concerned about what happened, Bellatrix. He is making plans to ensure that nothing similar happens again..."

"I am glad of it." Bellatrix gave a small smile. "I am so grateful to him for all that he does for me. I trust him to do what is best."

Narcissa looked uncomfortable for a moment, before turning her head to look out of the window. Bellatrix watched her sister, who was deep in thought, smiling at her when Narcissa turned to look at her again. Narcissa, however, looked solemn and grave.

"Bellatrix...tell me truthfully, what are your feelings for the Dark Lord?"

"I am his humble servant and he is my master. I would do anything to serve him; I would die if it were his will."

"That is an answer that Lucius would give me." Narcissa said, frowning. She stepped forwards and sat next to Bellatrix on the bed, gently placing a hand on her older sister's cheek. "But that is not all you feel, you are not the same as Lucius, as any of the other Death Eaters."

Bellatrix placed her feet on the bed and raised her knees, resting her chin on them and wrapping her arms around her legs. She had never taken a moment to try and analyse it before; Bellatrix was almost afraid to really reflect on it, frightened of what she might discover. She gave a sigh.

"I can only suppose that I love him." Bellatrix said quietly. The words hung heavily in the air, as if they were bearing down on their shoulders. Bellatrix longed to swat them away, to snatch them and stuff them back inside of her mouth, to swallow them.

"Love?"

"But it isn't like your love! It isn't the love that you and Lucius have." Bellatrix stood up and began to pace the room, wincing a little as her leg gave a slight twinge of pain. "It isn't innocent or happy or pleasant...I don't seek domesticity, I don't seek a home...I don't want a family or a future or...my love for him makes me _mad_. It's snatched my heart and my mind and my soul, until I am this empty shell that only exists to be filled by _him_. My love _burns _me, Narcissa, but it does not keep me warm. It only leaves me cold."

Narcissa stared at her sister silently, her eyes wide with shock at the passion of Bellatrix's words. She stepped forwards and took Bellatrix's hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. Bellatrix did anything she could to avoid meeting her eye; she looked around the room, her eyes flicking from the ceiling to the curtains, to the view of the moors from the window.

"This is dangerous." Narcissa whispered, her tone almost pleading. "You cannot lose yourself to him, Bellatrix...that isn't what...it isn't safe."

"No danger can befall me with the Dark Lord as my protector, Cissy." Bellatrix replied, smiling fondly. "You worry too much."

"Are you forgetting what happened last night so quickly? Where was the Dark Lord to protect you then?" Bellatrix dropped her sister's hands and stepped away from her, her eyes narrowed.

"You are too frank, Narcissa. If the Dark Lord heard you...your punishment would be severe."

"I am not one of his men, Bellatrix, and I will not be frightened by your threats. I care for you; I want you to be safe. What will happen when people realise how important to him you are? What will happen to you when they realise that you are his only weakness? I fear that they already have, that this is just the beginning..."

"He will protect me." Bellatrix repeated. "I trust him to do what is best for me, Cissy. He will do whatever he can to keep me close. I trust him."

"It seems that it is not me who you are trying to persuade, Bellatrix." Narcissa said quietly. "It sounds as if you are only trying to convince yourself." Narcissa walked over to the door and placed her hand upon the handle. Before she left, she turned her head slightly to look at her older sister, and Bellatrix suddenly felt so inferior. There she stood in the centre of the room, wearing a white nightdress with her hair tumbling about her shoulders, pale and weak, alone and insecure. And there was Narcissa, the image of health, of beauty, of youth, with a husband who loved her and more confidence than Bellatrix could ever hope to have.

"There is something else you wish to say to me." Bellatrix muttered. "I can see it bubbling on your lips."

"I only wish to warn you. If he falls, Bellatrix, if he falls...then he will surely drag you to hell with him."

Bellatrix stared at her sister for a moment, her nostrils flared and her face pale.

"Get out." She hissed angrily, picking up a hairbrush from the dressing table and throwing it at the door just as Narcissa shut it behind her. "_Get out_."

When Bellatrix ascended an hour later, she was surprised to find that the house was unusually quiet. She breakfasted alone in the dining room, and a search for Narcissa revealed to her that her sister was nowhere to be found. Returning to her room, Bellatrix could not ignore a heavy feeling of suspicion and of fear that seemed to settle in the bottom of her stomach. She tried desperately to shake her anxiety, but was unable to concentrate on her book, and was reduced to staring at her reflection in the mirror, tapping nervously on her dressing table. When she returned to the main part of the house for dinner, however, Bellatrix found that the house was bustling. A Death Eater meeting had evidently been called, and she took her usual place near the top of the table. Her nervous feeling only increased, when some of those gathered were whispering and staring at her. The Dark Lord swept into the room, accompanied by Rodolphus Lestrange, and held up his hand to silence them. Rodolphus sat opposite Bellatrix, and bowed his head in a curt nod.

"Good evening, friends and loyal servants – tonight is one of good news. Firstly, I wish to share our success when, last night, a group of dedicated followers were able to dispense with two more members of the Order of the Phoenix – Gideon and Fabian Prewett. Two men, who were enemies to many of you, are dead." There was a rumble of appreciation, including a smattering of applause from one section of the table. The door opened and, like many others, Bellatrix turned to see Narcissa sheepishly being guided into the room by Lucius. She bowed her head apologetically to the Dark Lord, but he did not seem to notice. Bellatrix narrowed her eyes questioningly, only to find that Narcissa was purposefully avoiding her gaze; Bellatrix turned to face the Dark Lord again. "And now for the second piece of good news. It gives me great pleasure to announce the engagement of two of my most loyal and dedicated followers – I bid you all to congratulate Miss Bellatrix Black and Mr Rodolphus Lestrange on their engagement, which has been finalised only this very afternoon."

The quiet round of applause seemed almost deafening to Bellatrix as she stared hopelessly at the Dark Lord. She felt a hand on her shoulder suddenly, and turned to see that Rodolphus had moved to stand behind her. He was looking around the room with a grin on his face, laughing at the lewd cries of some of the Death Eaters.

"You will, of course, all be invited to our wedding, which will take place in a matter of months." Rodolphus announced joyfully.

"I am sure you will agree," The Dark Lord said slowly, "that Bellatrix will make a lovely bride."

Bellatrix suddenly leapt to her feet, causing Rodolphus to drop his hand from her shoulder. She looked around the room, barely able to prevent her lips from trembling, before turning to her sister as if for help. Narcissa simply shook her head and looked away, an expression of her pity upon her face. Bellatrix looked again to the Dark Lord, but he stared straight past her.

"Excuse me..." She said, walking slowly from the room. As soon as the door shut behind her, Bellatrix broke out into a run. She sprinted down the stairs, slamming her bedroom door shut with as much force as she could muster. Withdrawing her wand, she sent all kinds of hexes and curses rebounding around the room, watching with satisfaction as her curtains burned to embers and her pillows exploded in a cloud of feathers. She fell to the floor amidst the rubble of her destroyed room, and waited for the tears to flow, but she was far too enraged to cry. She simply felt hollow. She was not sure how long she had been sitting there before the door opened, but she turned to find the Dark Lord standing in the doorway. He looked around the room, as if nothing was amiss, before stepping over an upturned chair.

"Why?" She hissed. "_Why_?"

"I believe it is for the best, Bellatrix. Rodolphus is a good match – it is an excellent union that will only strengthen our cause. Look to your sister, her match has made her husband stronger."

"Is that all I am good for?" Bellatrix barked, clambering to her feet. "Have I served my purpose in that respect for you? I made _you_ stronger, and now I must do the same for some other man? What about _me_? Who will do that for _me_?" The Dark Lord gave a gentle flick of his wand, casting a silent _Crucio _and sending Bellatrix to her knees. He waved it again and ended the spell.

"How dare you speak to me in such a way?" He said venomously. "I am now convinced that this engagement is for the best. You seem to be in need of humbling, in need of a reminder of who precisely is the Master here, of who is the Dark Lord." He waved his wand, and Bellatrix felt a searing pain in the place of her Dark Mark. She gave a moan of pain and clamped her hand over it, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

"I am sorry, my Lord." She pleaded, her voice trembling. "But why must you punish me in this way? Why make me marry Rodolphus Lestrange? I thought that...I had hoped...I _love _you, my Lord, can't you see that?" The curse ended, and Bellatrix flopped backwards with a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes and licked her lips, as the Dark Lord watched her silently.

"Stand." He commanded after a moment.

Bellatrix did as he said, her knees wobbling slightly. He swiped his wand briskly through the air, banishing Bellatrix's robes until she stood completely nude in the centre of the room. She closed her eyes as he approached, flinching as he lifted his arm before bringing it down again, sending what felt like the lash of a whip across her back. She gasped as he did it again and again, the crack of it resounding loudly around the room – it sounded, Bellatrix thought to herself as she cried out with the pain, like a clap of lightning. Bellatrix opened her eyes as he reached round and roughly grabbed her breast, before bending his head slightly and fixing his mouth around her nipple. She hissed as he sunk in his teeth, resisting the urge to push him away.

"Please, my Lord..." She whispered. "I don't want to do this...not now...please."

"Silence." She gasped as he dug the heels of his palms into her shoulders and pushed, driving her backwards until her back made contact with the wall. She closed her eyes as he planted a series of bites along the length of her neck, his hands wheedling between her legs, nudging her legs apart. "Have you forgotten so quickly, Bellatrix, that you belong to _me_? You are mine, and I shall do with you whatever I choose." He thrust into her suddenly and mercilessly, sending her head backwards so it collided with the wall. He grabbed one of her wrists and lifted it above her head, placing his other hand behind her knee and lifting her leg.

"No..." She hissed. "_No_."

"Love," He grunted, pressing his thin lips against her ear, "is the emotion of a fool. It is an abominable weakness, one that is to be derided and not celebrated. You would do well to learn that, Bellatrix."

"But I thought..." Bellatrix replied, feeling the splash of hot tears on her cheeks. "But I thought you loved me."

"I have never loved you, and I never shall. You are a plaything, Bella, a loyal follower and a vicious warrior. But I _do_. _Not. Love. You_." He came to a juddering climax, thrusting into Bellatrix more violently and forcefully than he had ever done before. They stood still for a moment, Bellatrix's face turned away from him, her eyes screwed shut. He stepped away from her, turning without a word. He stopped before he opened the door, turning to face her. His expression was thunderous, filled with a combination of disappointment and disgust. When he spoke, his voice sliced through the air like a dagger. "That was the last time, Bellatrix. Do not come to me; do not ask anything of me. Tomorrow you will return to the room that you had when you first arrived here. Any refusal will only be met with further punishment." He left the room, the door clicking gently behind him. Bellatrix did not move, but she simply sank slowly to the ground, her legs folding beneath her. She reached over and grabbed a discarded blanket from its crumpled position on the floor and threw it over herself, leaning her head back against the wall, closing her eyes, and willing the world to disappear.

She did not leave the comfort and safety of her bedroom until the following afternoon, when the house elves arrived and once again transferred her belongings across the house. The room was bare and cold, and it was almost as if every piece of meagre furnishing was mocking her, deriding her for her fall from grace. After eating lunch there alone, she dressed in her finest clothes, did her hair and put on her makeup, before leaving the room and walking determinedly to the third floor of the house. She knocked on the first door of that corridor three times, before stepping backwards and folding her arms across her chest. Rodolphus Lestrange answered the door moments later, a baffled expression on his face that disappeared when he realised it was Bellatrix.

"I expected that you would wish to see me at some point today. Do come inside." Bellatrix slipped past him and strode into the middle of the room which, she noticed, seemed to be better furnished than some of the others; it was not quite as plush as her own had been, but there were still some luxuries that were not afforded to the typical Death Eater.

"I suppose all of this was a gift." She stated, motioning to the room. "A reward, for agreeing to take on a wife."

"I shall not lie to you, improvements to my bedroom were amongst some of the things that the Dark Lord offered me in exchange for my engagement to you."

"Will it be worth it, do you think?" She hissed. "Will the satisfaction of your greed be worth a marriage you do not desire?"

"Do not look down at me, Bellatrix. Your high position among the Death Eaters was gained by compromises you did not desire, I do not doubt, and greed was ultimately what provoked you to topple from it." Bellatrix felt her face flush a little, and Rodolphus laughed. "Hmm, you aren't so quick to bark when faced with the ugly truth, are you? Now, did you only come here to shout at me, or was there something else you wanted?"

"I want you to call off the engagement, to say that you have changed your mind and you no longer wish to take a wife."

"You and I both know that to do so would be a grievous disobedience against the Dark Lord, for which we would be severely punished. How about you ask for something a little more reasonable?"

Bellatrix sat down on the nearby chair without asking, eliciting a smirk and a raise of his eyebrows from Rodolphus. She folded her arms and gave a sigh.

"I want you to be fully aware that this sham of a marriage does not entitle you to anything. You do not control me – you have no say on what I do, or who I meet, or what I say...I _will _continue to serve the Dark Lord...I will still do whatever he asks of me."

"Those are all acceptable terms, Bellatrix." Rodolphus replied simply. "This engagement is not intended to diminish your freedom, but to increase it. I don't think you fully understand the situation."

"Well then explain it to me." She retorted tartly.

"I am afraid I cannot – it isn't my place." He turned away from her and walked towards a chest of drawers, opening the top one and removing a small black box. Standing in front of her, he opened it to reveal a small diamond engagement ring. "A ring is, I believe, usually given in such circumstances. It belonged to my mother, and has been in our family for centuries."

Bellatrix removed the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger, watching as it magically shrunk to fit. She held up her hand and watched the diamond sparkle in the sunshine. Too many thoughts rushed through her brain; it was almost as if a crowd of people was shouting in her head, vying for her attention, demanding her to listen. One voice was decrying the injustice that this engagement was the very thing she had joined the Death Eaters to avoid. Another fretted that there was something amiss, that there was something about this situation that they were hiding from her. And finally, there was a voice to which Bellatrix would never listen again; after the previous night, she would never dare to speak what this voice whispered to her – she wished that it was the Dark Lord who was offering her this ring and, for a very long time, she had had great hopes that he one day would. Bellatrix rested her left hand in her lap, placing her right on top of it and looking at Rodolphus.

"What would we have said," She said, with a small smile, "if someone had told us back in our fifth year of Hogwarts that we would be forced to marry?"

"I don't doubt that I would have sent a Cruciatus curse in their direction and laughed about it afterwards." Rodolphus smiled down at Bellatrix, and she could see that he was sort of handsome. He had sandy blonde hair and wide green eyes, with a strange sort of hair of liveliness about him, that could almost have made him seem twitchy, were it not for the grin that accompanied it. "Let's try and co-operate, Bellatrix. At least if we are able to foster some kind of friendship it will not be too unpleasant, and with any luck we shall swiftly be able to regain your favour with the Dark Lord."

"Very well." She replied after a moment. "I suppose it can do no harm." Bellatrix extended her hand expecting Rodolphus to shake it, and was shocked when he took it in his and lifted it to his lips, placing upon it a tender, and yet somehow ominous, kiss.


	13. Thirteen

_September 1975._

It was somewhat surprising for Bellatrix to find that it was comforting to have an ally amongst the Death Eaters who was not the Dark Lord. Rodolphus was easy to converse with, and it seemed to be easy for him to procure things for her, or to ward off the unwanted attention of some of the more loutish Death Eaters. They took tea together twice a week and, when the weather was pleasant, occasionally walked around the grounds of the house. He kept her informed about the machinations of the Dark Lord, although Bellatrix could always sense a reluctance to answer her questions, as if afraid of how she might respond. Their relationship was, by the very nature of the fact that they were engaged, widely assumed to be of a romantic nature, but Bellatrix felt nothing other than a sort of kinship with Rodolphus; she knew intrinsically that she could trust him, and that made her feel more powerful than she had ever felt before.

As September approached, so did the wedding, and Bellatrix found herself lost in a blur of female friends and acquaintances offering her marriage help and advice. She was grateful that Narcissa had taken to organising most of the ceremony, for Bellatrix's disinterest in the entire event was overwhelming; she wished that it could just be a simple ceremony with only her and Rodolphus present but, apparently, that was not acceptable. Even on the morning of the ceremony itself, Bellatrix was not interested in what was happening around her. She sat on the windowsill in her bedroom, her nose pressed against the glass as she looked out over the hills. Narcissa stood behind her, slowly and gracefully dragging her wand through the air, pinning locks of Bellatrix's hair in place. Bellatrix watched in the reflection of the window as Narcissa stepped back and looked at her work, smiling and giving a satisfied sigh.

"Turn around." She said. Bellatrix did so, and Narcissa's smile widened. "You look beautiful, Bella."

"Thank you. It's all for a rather worthless cause though, don't you think?" Bellatrix walked over to the wardrobe, where her wedding gown was hanging. It was one of the most beautiful dresses she had ever seen, but it made Bellatrix sick to think of herself wearing it. Bridal white had never been something she had sought after, particularly not in these circumstances. She gave a sigh and waved her wand, removing her dressing gown as the dress hovered above her before dropping down and clothing her. She looked in the mirror and nodded at herself, satisfied with what she saw. "I just want to get this over with." She muttered.

"Oh Bella, I know you must be feeling nervous. On my wedding day, I could barely breathe I was so nervous, but there was excitement there too."

"Your wedding day was different to mine." Bellatrix stated emptily. "You were happy, you were in love...it was a celebration of the start of yours and Lucius' life together...what is this for me? A public declaration of my own failure and how very far I have fallen."

The wedding ceremony took place in the dining room, which Narcissa had taken great pains to try and make look less dull and dreary. The room was full of lilies, the scent of them almost assaulting you as you stepped into the room. Bellatrix stood next to Rodolphus and, at the bidding of the ministry official who was overseeing the ceremony, she turned to face him. Bellatrix's heart clenched as, standing behind Rodolphus, directly in her eye line, was the Dark Lord. Her eyes met his, and she was certain that nothing would make her turn her gaze away. The ministry official spoke.

"Today, we are here to witness the marital union of Rodolphus Lestrange and Bellatrix Black. Firstly, do any of you here know any reason why these two may not be joined in matrimony?"

_Say it_, Bellatrix shouted in her mind, imagining how the words would sound if she had truly yelled them aloud. _Tell him not to marry us, my Lord_, she pleaded_, tell him that you want me instead_. She still kept her eyes fixed upon his and, for a moment, was convinced that he had heard her; the corners of his thin lips quirked, his eyes narrowed. But no one spoke.

"Excellent – we may proceed. Do you, Rodolphus Lestrange, take Bellatrix Black to be your wife?"

"I do." Bellatrix took a deep breath.

"And do you, Bellatrix Black, take Rodolphus Lestrange to be your husband?"

_No_, she wanted to cry, _no I do not, and I never have and I never shall_. Instead, she licked her lips.

"I do."

"Join hands please." Bellatrix reached out her hands towards Rodolphus. At any other wedding, she supposed that this would be the most romantic moment. The bride would have looked into her future husband's eyes, and for a moment they would feel like there was no one else in the room; they would speculate on the rest of their life together, they would look to the future. But Bellatrix still did not avert her gaze from the Dark Lord. The officiator waved his wand, and two white bands erupted from the end of it, tying themselves around their joined hands in a knot. "I join this man and this woman - you are now husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Rodolphus leant forwards and, for the first time in the duration of the ceremony, the gaze between Bellatrix and the Dark Lord was interrupted. Bellatrix's eyes flutter closed as he pressed his lips against hers; the kiss was short and chaste, undoubtedly not the kiss of a man and woman in the first flush of love. When he pulled away again, the Dark Lord had gone, and Bellatrix left the room on the arm of the man who was now her husband.

As is the usual tradition of a wedding, the invited guests danced and drank for the evening. Bellatrix stood at the side, watching as her guests enjoyed themselves. Many of the Death Eaters were too drunk and shouted loudly and raucously, tripping over other couples on the dance floor, smashing glasses and leaving a trail of food in their wake. Bellatrix watched them from a seat in the corner of the room, watched as her new husband exchanged bawdy jokes with them, and winced. Suddenly, however, the orchestra stopped playing and Rodolphus walked over to her. He gave a flamboyant bow, wobbling slightly and giving an ungraceful laugh.

"Would you, my wife, share our first dance with me?" She took his hand reluctantly, and he dragged her roughly into the middle of the room. The orchestra began to play once more, and Rodolphus clumsily began to lead her around the room. He was barely able to stand, and tripped over her feet several times, his friends howling with laughter at the sight. Bellatrix could feel herself blushing with shame, which only seemed to increase as he pulled her tightly against him, placing his hands upon her bottom. The Death Eaters gave a coarse cheer, several of them shouting lewd comments about the reputation of women from the Black family. She turned her head slightly and saw that the Dark Lord was stood amongst them, smirking lasciviously at her. But there was something else in his expression; something that, had it been anyone else, Bellatrix would instantly have identified as envy. Rodolphus bent his head down and pressed his lips against Bellatrix's neck, jolting her from her reverie and causing Bellatrix to give a loud yelp. She pushed him away with a grunt of disgust, before striding towards the open doorway. Before she left, Bellatrix gave a swift flick of her wand, sending a Bat-Bogey Hex around the room that would afflict all of those who had laughed.

Bellatrix stormed down the corridor, the dainty slippers that she wore greatly reducing her usual speed, and irritably pulled the hair pins from her hair, giving a sigh of relief as it tumbled wildly around her shoulders. She could hear that someone was pursuing her and, thinking it was Rodolphus, came to a grinding stop and spun on her heels to face him, her wand withdrawn and her teeth bared. She dropped her wand, however, when she realised that it was not Rodolphus at all. It was _him_.

"My Lord." She said quickly, giving a small bow that all of the other Death Eaters were bound to do, but which she had previously never done before. "I apologise, I thought you were Rodolphus."

"I would have forgiven you for your response if it had been Rodolphus. His behaviour was crude and inappropriate for the occasion."

"You are quite right, my Lord." Bellatrix replied, bending to retrieve her wand. "But I shall make sure that my husband amends his behaviour at any future celebrations such as this."

She stood still as he slowly stepped forwards and circled her, her chest rising and falling heavily as he did. The Dark Lord came to a stop in front of her, before reaching round and removing a pin that she had missed; she felt the last of her hair tumble down, before taking the pin from his proffered hand.

"You make a beautiful bride, Bella." She laughed loudly, in what she had hoped would be a carefree way, but she only sounded hysterical.

"My Lord..." She swallowed, trying to suppress some of her anxiety. Her hands were trembling. "You never...You never told me why you commanded Rodolphus and I to marry. I have tried these past months to understand, truly I have, but I cannot."

"I had thought, Bellatrix, that it would become clear to you over time. I see now that I misjudged you." He looked her directly in the eye. "My preference for you was notable to everyone who visited this house and, in my confidence, I was convinced that this mattered not. However, after the night when you were almost killed by Dorcas Meadowes, many of my most trusted Death Eaters warned me that you were my only weakness, and that the Order of the Phoenix would not hesitate to use you against us, that this incident told us they had already begun. I had no choice but to conceal it, Bellatrix, to make it look as if you were as unimportant to me as every other Death Eater in my ranks."

"So you passed me on to another man, like a doll with which you had grown bored of playing." Bellatrix gave a weary sigh, and dragged the back of her hand across her eyes. "I wish that things had remained the way they were, my Lord, but I understand now why you did it. I can only say that I stand by my promise that I would do whatever you asked me to. I am your servant as Rodolphus is, as Lucius is...and I will behave accordingly, my Lord." The Dark Lord tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. Bellatrix hoped that her words had stung him in the way that she had intended them to. She believed that, when he had said that he did not love her, he had been telling the truth, but even he was unable to deny that she was important to him in a way that no other human being was.

"And what about the other thing you swore to me, Bellatrix? Will you still be mine, as you were before? Your marriage to Rodolphus permits it now...indeed, it gives you more freedom that you have ever had." Bellatrix opened her mouth as though to answer, even though she was not certain of what she would have said. She stopped, however, as a familiar figure came staggering down the corridor towards them.

"Rodolphus." She stated. "I was about to come looking for you." The Dark Lord turned slightly as Rodolphus, barely able to stand, used the wall to guide his way. He came to a stop and slumped against it, placing a hand on Bellatrix's shoulder to keep his balance.

"My friends have decided that it is about time I make this a true marriage, in every sense." He lurched forwards and grabbed Bellatrix by the waist. "To bed, _wife_."

Bellatrix struggled to remove his hands from her, but she did not have to when, suddenly, Rodolphus fell to his knees with a cry of pain. She turned to look at the Dark Lord, and found that he had withdrawn his wand. He was sneering at Rodolphus, who gasped when the Dark Lord prodded the tip of his wand against the bare skin of Rodolphus' neck.

"Have you forgotten our deal so swiftly, Rodolphus?" The Dark Lord hissed, as Rodolphus began to squirm, grunting in pain. "She is to be your wife in all but deed, do you understand? No one but I am to touch her. _No one_. She is _mine_." The Dark Lord removed his wand and stepped backwards, revealing a circular red burn where his wand had been. Rodolphus' head flopped forwards, and he braced himself against the floor.

"I am sorry, my Lord. I am most sorry."

"Take yourself to your room alone, Rodolphus, and sleep...or get yourself a whore if you truly wish it, whatever you please." The Dark Lord reached out and wrapped his fingers tightly around Bellatrix's wrist. "I have somewhere that I wish to take your new bride on your wedding night." And then suddenly, without warning, they disapparated.

Bellatrix stumbled slightly when they arrived at their destination, but was prevented from falling completely by Voldemort's tight grip on her arm. She looked around her and found that they were standing in the middle of the road, in what looked like a muggle suburb of London. Bellatrix looked back up at Lord Voldemort, who leant his face close to hers.

"Vengeance, my dear Bellatrix, is a powerful aphrodisiac." The rain was pouring heavily, and Bellatrix winced in discomfort as she followed him down the street, his grip still tight on her arm. She felt ridiculous, for she was still wearing her wedding gown, and was almost a little disgruntled that it would be ruined by the rain. She could feel her makeup trailing down her cheeks. The Dark Lord came to an abrupt stop in front of a small terraced house, and waved his wand to silently open the gate, before they walked up the path and let themselves into the house. They waited still and silently in the hallway until, moments later, a figure came down the stairs towards them. She was carrying a wand and, although wearing pyjamas and ruffled from sleep, Bellatrix recognised her instantly – it was the woman who had almost killed her that night.

"Dorcas Meadowes." Bellatrix hissed. "_Expelliarmus!_" The wand came flying out of the woman's hand, and Bellatrix caught it, snapping it violently in two before tossing it on the floor. The Dark Lord stepped forwards, tapping his wand rhythmically against the palm of his hand.

"Did you know we would be coming, Dorcas?" The Dark Lord asked. The woman closed her eyes and gave a shaky sigh.

"I assumed that you would send someone to me soon, but I did not suspect for one moment that you would ever deign to come yourself. Isn't this usually the job for an oafish hit man, killing someone like me in the middle of the night?"

"Ordinarily...yes." He replied. "But there are three reasons why this is an exception. Firstly, you are undoubtedly one of the Order's most formidable members – I am not so stubborn that I cannot admit to it. Secondly, that night at the Prewett house, you chose to target my right hand...a foolish idea, Dorcas. And finally...tonight is Bellatrix's wedding night, and I offer your death to her as a gift."

Dorcas Meadowes nodded slowly, sinking to her knees in front of the Dark Lord. Despite the fact that she was their enemy, Bellatrix was impressed by her bravery; she knew that she was about to die, and yet she barely seemed afraid.

"Shall you torture me first?" She asked quietly.

"No...I shall give Bellatrix the honour of doing that." Bellatrix licked her lips and pointed her wand.

"_Crucio_!"

Bellatrix tortured Dorcas for half an hour, until the woman was on the very brink of death. The Dark Lord gently placed a hand atop of Bellatrix's and she lowered her wand, watching silently as the woman twitched in agony for a few moments.

"What shall it be now?" Dorcas croaked. "The Killing Curse – that is a favourite of yours, isn't it Voldemort?"

"No. I am afraid that you do not deserve such a...s_peedy_, _clean _death, Dorcas." He turned to Bellatrix. "Do you still carry your dagger, Bella?"

She hitched up her wedding dress to reveal that she did indeed still have it with her. She removed it from the strap around her thigh and handed it to him. Bellatrix watched as the Dark Lord knelt beside Dorcas, waited silently for a heartbeat, before dragging the blade of the knife swiftly across her throat. He pointed his wand at the blood that streamed from her mouth and from the gash in her chin, before holding it like a quill and seemingly writing on the wall with her blood. Bellatrix read the words once he had finished, a shudder running down her spine.

"Do not attempt to destroy that which is precious to me."

Without saying another word, the Dark Lord rose to his feet and gripped Bellatrix's hand once again. They left the house in much the same way they had entered it, swiftly and in silence, magically shutting both the door and the front gate behind them.

"Would you do the honours, Bella?" He asked quietly, when they came to a stop in the centre of the empty street. Bellatrix turned to face the house and pointed her wand.

"_Morsmordre_."

She smiled in satisfaction at the sight of the ominous Dark Mark hovering over the house. She stared at it for a moment, before suddenly spinning to face the Dark Lord. Bellatrix leapt at him, grasping handfuls of the front of his robes in her fist and pressing her lips forcefully against his, grasping his bottom lip between her teeth. She gave a throaty moan as he buried his hands in his hair, his long fingernails snagging in her curls when he roughly pulled at it. The rain hammered down as Bellatrix pulled away from him, closing her eyes and giving a laugh that reverberated around the street. She had thought before that she had been powerful, that she had reached her height of influence amongst the Death Eaters, but she knew at that moment that she had not, not until then. The Dark Lord had ensured her protection through her marriage to Rodolphus, and now she was free to do whatever she chose. He had proved her power, he had proved her importance by the very act of murdering Dorcas Meadows – do not attempt to destroy that which is precious to me, he had written. Bellatrix laughed loudly again, her body almost fizzing with sheer delight at her own power.

"You will return to me." He demanded huskily. "You will return to me, and you will serve me as you ought, but you must swear to me now that you will not doubt me again, Bellatrix. To do so would mean death, but to trust me will bring you everything that you could ever imagine.

"I swear to it, my Lord." She whispered. "I am _yours_."


	14. Fourteen

_March 1976_

_Muggle Death at the Hand of You-Know-Who's Right Hand Woman!_

_Last night, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's notorious right hand woman Bellatrix Lestrange tortured a muggle family to death alongside a small group of Death Eaters. The two young children of the Smith family, aged 5 and 11, were left alive to watch the violent torture of their parents and their eventual murder, before being submitted to similar treatment. It was then said that Mrs Lestrange destroyed the inside of the house, smearing blood upon the walls and snatching their most valuable possessions. The muggle policemen (who hold a similar position to aurors) were called by a muggle neighbour, but Lestrange was gone before they arrived. All muggles who had witnessed Mrs Lestrange's flight had their memories modified, but we managed to interview one of them beforehand, posing as muggle journalists. Here is what our witness, Mrs Janet Hewson, had to say: "We saw a woman running out of the house, with blood all over her hands and smears of it on her face and in her hair. She was terrifying, running up and down the street, cackling like a witch or something. We have no idea why she and the men she was with would ever want to kill the Smiths – they were a lovely family, we all liked them. This is a tragedy." _

_It is rumoured that Mrs Smith's sister is a muggleborn witch, whom the Death Eaters wanted to punish for her recent public outcry against the Death Eaters. It is only for the Daily Prophet to speculate on the actions of Bellatrix Lestrange, but is widely believed by many that she is quite insane. An insider, who we cannot name for their own safety, has recently informed us that Mrs Lestrange is incredibly close to You-Know-Who, so close in fact that she is rumoured to know the secret of his power. Our insider said: "Lestrange is crazy, an absolute nutcase. But the Dark Lord can rely on her, and she knows things...dangerous things. Merlin help you if she ever comes to your house – there's nothing she wouldn't do, and there's no way you would get out alive". We at The Daily Prophet offer our sincerest sympathies to the family of the Smiths and, as ever, urge our readers to stay safe._

Bellatrix slammed the newspaper onto the dining room table with a triumphant grin. Narcissa and Lucius, to whom she had been reading the article aloud to, looked at her blankly, as if afraid of what she might do. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, giving a frustrated sigh when neither of them spoke.

"What do you think of that?" She muttered. "What do you think?"

"Well...I..." Narcissa looked nervously at Lucius. "Was it really necessary to smear the blood on your hands and face? It's a little disgusting..." Bellatrix shot her sister a withering look.

"The job of the Death Eaters is to make people _fear _us, Cissy. The Smith family and their brats are filthy, they're rodents, they need to learn that their place is beneath us. People aren't going to understand and accept that if we simply ask them to – we need to _show them_."

"Your sister is correct." Lucius said, looking at his wife. "Although I agree that the blood was perhaps not necessary. However, if the Dark Lord approved..."

"He did." Bellatrix replied shortly, standing from the table. "So no amount of sneering from Narcissa will change a thing. Excuse me."

Bellatrix left the dining hall and ascended the staircase, heading towards the bedroom in which she was staying. She had been staying at Malfoy Manor with Lucius and Narcissa for a month, as a holiday of sorts, and the tedium of it was beginning to irritate her. Narcissa had, after three years of marriage, begun to slowly turn into a copy of their mother; she cared a great deal for the outward appearance of their family, about the reputation they had to uphold, especially since Lucius had begun a well-paying job at the Ministry. That particular fact annoyed Bellatrix more than anything. She was one of the only Death Eaters who happily showed her true identity, whilst the rest of them hid behind the security of a mask, in order to keep their comfortable jobs and avoid trouble from the rest of the Wizarding World – Lucius included. If she had her way, the Dark Lord would have put a stop to that a long time ago, but he seemed to deem it necessary to retain power and the support of his followers, and so Bellatrix did not dare defy him.

Bellatrix gave a sigh and sat on the windowsill, casting a glance towards the bedside table, upon which stood a photograph that had been taken on her wedding day. She and Rodolphus had been married for 6 months, and the Dark Lord had been telling the truth when he swore her power would be increased. She made all of the decisions on who their next victims should be, and she was responsible for the actual murder of most of them; people had begun to fear her almost as much as they did the Dark Lord, and that morning's article in The Daily Prophet just proved it. But Bellatrix had not seen Rodolphus since two nights after their marriage, and for that she felt a little guilty. The Dark Lord had an ever increasing number of tasks abroad that needed completing, and it seemed that Rodolphus was the man he preferred to do the job. Whether that was due to Rodolphus' skill or simply because the Dark Lord wanted Bellatrix's husband out of the way, was not for Bellatrix or the other Death Eaters to guess, but it was tacitly known by everyone that it was the latter.

Walking over to the dressing table, Bellatrix sat down and took a piece of parchment and a quill from the top drawer. She smiled to herself as she began to pen a letter to her estranged husband, politely asking how he was and what he was doing, before informing him about the events at home. They had sworn to be friends after all, in spite of whatever else might happen, and the act of writing a letter to him assuaged her guilt a little. As she finished writing, the door opened and Bellatrix looked over her shoulder to see Narcissa enter the room. Her sister had once been widely described as angelic, but as Bellatrix watched her cross the room towards her, the word majestic came to mind. She held her nose aloft slightly, mimicking the permanent expression of disgust that Lucius and the portraits of his ancestors shared, and Bellatrix had never seen one woman wear so many jewels. Looking at her sister, Bellatrix felt another pang of guilt, as she realised how far apart they had recently drifted. She reached out and took Narcissa's hand in her own, holding it tenderly against her cheek.

"I've neglected you terribly, haven't I?" Bellatrix said quietly with a sigh.

"I wouldn't have said anything if you hadn't mentioned it, but yes...yes, you have. It seems as if bloodshed and destruction are the only things you have time for now, Bella." Bellatrix dropped her sister's hand with a frustrated sigh and turned away from her.

"I do as the Dark Lord asks me to." She replied stiffly. Narcissa placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her sadly in the mirror.

"Come now, let's not argue. I only came in here to ask if you would be joining Lucius and I for dinner tonight."

"No, I am to dine with the Dark Lord. Then we are to pay a visit to some Wizarding hamlet or another that the Dark Lord wants destroyed; 'as a symbol of my ever-increasing power' he said. Isn't Lucius coming along? The Dark Lord himself said he would be there." Bellatrix saw Narcissa's features darken in the mirror, and realised that she had no doubt revealed a secret plan of Lucius'. Narcissa no longer even tried to pretend that she approved of the Death Eaters' activities, in fact Bellatrix had witnessed more than one occasion on which Narcissa had pleaded with Lucius not to go. The hurt that flashed in Narcissa's eyes was more than Bellatrix could bear, and she averted her gaze from her sister. "You can't stop Lucius from doing what he is ordered, Cissy. Would you rather he was dead?"

"One day soon I fear he might be." Narcissa replied, a sharp edge to her voice. "Being a Death Eater, doing what the Dark Lord orders, is no guarantee of his safety. He could just as easily die tonight than die at the hand of the Dark Lord if he refused to attend." Bellatrix looked at her in the mirror again, her face void of any sympathy.

"At least if he complies with orders there is a chance of his survival. You knew that this was the life he signed himself away to, you chose this life too when you married him. But believe me, Cissy, that you will reap the rewards when the Dark Lord is victorious."

"But what if he isn't?" Bellatrix froze for a moment, before turning to look at her sister. Narcissa stared at her defiantly, the fear and concern for her husband etched in the flawless skin of her face.

"He will be." She said with confidence, before her face broke into an arrogant smile. "How could a man as magnificent as he possibly fail?"

That evening, Bellatrix returned to the headquarters of the Death Eaters to eat with the Dark Lord. She had believed that they would be alone, but was dismayed to find that Benedict Nott had been invited to dine with them. Bellatrix tried to stifle a yawn as she was forced to listen to Nott discussing their tactics and strategy for that evening; she preferred to do things unprepared, to let her mood and whims guide her instead of relying on detailed plans and rigid time limits. The Dark Lord was listening silently, nodding now and then as Nott became animated when discussing how each Death Eater would be paired with another when they began to enter the houses. Bellatrix gave a loud sigh and dropped her fork onto her plate, the loud clatter distracting the attention of the two men. Nott looked offended and outraged at her interruption, but the Dark Lord seemed mainly intrigued.

"Why must it be planned in this way?" Bellatrix asked, leaning forwards and resting her chin on her fist. "Why can't it be _fun_?"

"We aren't out shopping for an expensive gown or a brand new pair of earrings." Nott snapped irritably. "This is a military operation, in the middle of a war!"

"Silence, Nott!" The Dark Lord said, his voice commanding but his expression one of amusement. "I have hexed greater men for less. Whilst this is an important mission...my favour lies with Bellatrix. There shall be no plans, no strategy...we shall simply...enjoy it." Bellatrix grinned widely and sat back in her chair with a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, my Lord." She took a sip of her red wine. "Now perhaps we should talk about something more enjoyable. Did you read the article in the Prophet this morning...?"

"I did indeed." The Dark Lord remarked, before turning to Nott. "What did you think of it Benedict?"

"May I speak honestly my Lord?" Nott asked, to which the Dark Lord bowed his head. "I thought that Bellatrix's behaviour has somewhat diminished the impact of our attack. It makes it look foolish, like it's all a joke or a pantomime...running around the streets like a mad woman..."

Bellatrix leapt to her feet and, before either Nott or the Dark Lord had time to react, she had hexed him and sent him flying backwards across the room, smashing into the cabinet with a loud grunt. Bellatrix took her seat again as the Dark Lord gave a low chuckle, whilst Nott simply stared at the blankly, as if in disbelief that she was not being punished. After a few moments, he struggled to his feet and waved his wand to repair the cabinet.

"My Lord..." Nott started, but the Dark Lord lifted a hand to silence him.

"You deserved such treatment, Nott. Bellatrix successfully led the mission that night and, whilst her actions are unorthodox with our usual practices, I do not object to them. You will not attend the raid tonight, but will instead remain here whilst Bellatrix takes the lead."

"But my Lord, I have planned this!"

"Silence. You may leave, Nott." And he scrambled from the room without waiting another moment.

Half an hour later, they finished their dinner and went out into the hallway of the house, where a large group of Death Eaters had already gathered. They bowed as Bellatrix and the Dark Lord made their way through the crowd, until the Dark Lord stopped to speak with one of the newest recruits. Bellatrix spotted Lucius standing by the doorway and pushed her way through the crowd towards him, he sneered at her when she approached.

"My gratitude, Bellatrix, for telling my wife of my whereabouts this evening."

"I had no idea you were hiding it from her, Lucius." Bellatrix said defensively, folding her arms and jutting out her chin. "You oughtn't to be ashamed; she will be grateful when we are successful and her position is secure."

"She begged me not to leave." Lucius hissed. "It was worse than it ever has been before; she was crying, I...I may ask the Dark Lord's permission to return home for the evening..."

"Don't." Bellatrix insisted, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. "Nott has already angered him, and the Dark Lord has excluded him from the mission as punishment...it would not be in your favour to stay behind."

"But Narcissa..."

"Will be quite alright, Lucius. She will be grateful for this...in the end..."

Suddenly, silence fell over the hallway and Bellatrix turned to see that the Dark Lord had lifted his hands. Every person there turned to look at him, the same expression of fear and awe on their faces, and Bellatrix felt a stab of pride as he extended one of his hands towards her. She crossed the room to join him, the clicking of her heels on the tiled floor sounding louder than normal in the silence.

"Tonight..." the Dark Lord started, his voice authoritative and strong, "Tonight is when we show the world the true extent of my power, the strength and devotion of my followers, and the determination that we shall succeed. The whole Wizarding World – purebloods, half-bloods and mudbloods alike – will wake up tomorrow and know undoubtedly that we are a force to be reckoned with, and that we will not cease until the purity of our world is restored." There was a loud cheer, but the Dark Lord continued. "Benedict Nott will no longer lead the mission tonight, but Bellatrix will do the task instead."

"There are no plans, no rules, no limits." Bellatrix shouted loudly, her tone light and excited, as if they were about to attend a party and not a raid. "Do as you choose, just as long as what you choose reflects the undeniable power of our Dark Lord!" The Death Eaters gave one last roar of triumph, before they gradually began to disapparated. Bellatrix was about to go too, but the Dark Lord gripped onto her hand, and they disapparated together.

They arrived in the centre of the road that led to the hamlet, and Bellatrix could see that the Death Eaters had already begun their destruction. Bellatrix gave a squeal of delight and let go of the Dark Lord, running forwards to join the fray. She pointed her wand at the nearest cottage and laughed loudly as a blast of fire erupted from the end of it, setting the thatched roof of the cottage alight. She ran through the hamlet shooting hexes in every direction, lost completely to the power that was surging through her veins. She was certain that she had never felt more alive as she danced from house to house, the fire ripping through the entire hamlet, the people crying and begging for mercy. She felt a sudden desire to watch the spectacle from above, to distance herself from it and look down on the beautiful destruction that she had helped to create. Seeing a small house that had not yet caught alight, Bellatrix conjured a ladder and climbed up to the roof. She sat on the edge of it, her legs swinging freely, and laughed as she watched the Death Eaters and their victims. She imagined that if such a muggle God existed, which she highly doubted, he would see the earth as she saw this hamlet; they were like insects, scrambling for life and trying to escape a death that was inevitable for them all.

A bright flash of light distracted Bellatrix from her reverie, and she looked down to the centre of the street, where the Dark Lord was duelling with a particularly vicious wizard, whose home had been set alight and all of his belongings destroyed. Bellatrix watched it as if the Dark Lord had planned it all purely for her entertainment, and she applauded loudly when his Killing Curse made contact and the wizard was thrown into the air with a flash of emerald. Bellatrix stood to her feet and lifted her wand in the air, shouting at the top of her voice.

"_Morsmordre_!" As the Dark Mark snaked its way into the sky, she descended the ladder again and ran down the street towards the Dark Lord. The Death Eaters were beginning to converge again, ready for the Dark Lord's permission to disappear before the aurors arrived. Bellatrix looked at the flames that surged around them, the smell of smoke sinking into her clothes and hair as she stood there, and she felt another surge of absolute joy. The sound of gentle popping in the distance announced the arrival of the aurors, and the Dark Lord waved his wand to create a protective ring around his gathered Death Eaters. He turned to face the aurors, laughing loudly when he saw that they had only sent two of them, both looking timid and afraid in the face of the Dark Lord.

"I, the Dark Lord, will do whatever it takes to ensure the purity of our world." He boomed loudly. "I will rid it of its parasites, of its rodents, of its pests, and I will make it _great_. Those who dare to stand against me, who dare to stand against us, will live to regret it. _Avada Kedavra_." One of the aurors was killed instantly, leaving the other to tremble for a moment before disapparating with another gentle pop. Bellatrix gave a dark chuckled.

"My Lord," She breathed. "My Lord, look at what we have done." The Dark Lord looked around for a moment, admiring the carnage that he had caused, before looking down at Bellatrix. He reached out and dragged the long nail of his index finger along the length of her chin, causing her to shudder with pleasure. He rarely showed his preference physically before the other Death Eaters, and Bellatrix revelled in the attention.

"You have done well, Bella." He hissed. And she was unable to contain her joy for much longer. She leapt forwards and gathered the material of the front of the robes in her fists, stretching up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips against the Dark Lord's. She expected him to punish her, she felt as if she would die, but all she could hear was the deafening roar of cheering and applause.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Here is the next installment of Bella! I'm updating the fic more regularly and two chapters at a time, as I want to get it all published before I move to Germany in September. I hope you enjoyed the two new chapters - please let me know what you think!_


	15. Fifteen

_September 1977._

The raid in the hamlet that night had done exactly as the Dark Lord had hoped it would. It seemed as if the whole Wizarding World had gone into hiding, and not a day went by when there wasn't an article printed in the newspaper about another raid or speculating on what the Dark Lord would do next. But the celebration that came with such a success was, much to Bellatrix's dismay, to be short-lived. It seemed that, with the war now becoming more serious, the Dark Lord was less tolerable of her 'let's have fun' attitude, and was now a supporter of Nott's strategising and plotting. He spent hours locked away in his study with his closest supporters, poring over maps and lists and discussing tactics. Bellatrix could barely stay awake as she sat there, lounging on the chaise longue and watching the grandfather clock from the corner of her eye. She found the men stuffy and dull, too wrapped up in the serious side of life and unable to see that the Dark Lord was quite clearly winning the war.

Bellatrix was sat in one of these very meetings, one afternoon around the mark of her two year wedding anniversary to Rodolphus. She was trying desperately hard not to fall asleep, but every few moments the room swam out of focus and her eyelids fluttered closed. She held the back of her hand against her mouth to smother a yawn, just as Lucius embarked on his weekly update about security at the Ministry of Magic. She was almost ready to surrender to sleep by the time Lucius had finished his report, until the door opened suddenly and Rodolphus Lestrange stepped into the room. It seemed that Bellatrix was not the only one surprised by his sudden appearance, for even the Dark Lord looked a little taken aback to see him there. Her husband strode into the room and took the empty seat, clearing his throat slightly.

"My Lord, I apologise for the lateness of my arrival. I trust that you received my letter explaining that I may not be able to attend?"

"I did." The Dark Lord said steadily. "And yet...here you are."

"I come only with good news, my Lord. The reason I am able to be here is because, just this morning, I received official word from the pack. We have the werewolves on side." There was a buzz of excitement about the room, and even Bellatrix sat up to pay attention to what he had to say.

"All of them?" The Dark Lord asked, leaning forwards in anticipation.

"Yes, my Lord." Rodolphus reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew a scroll, which he opened up on the large table around which they were sat. "Here are the signatures of the leaders of all five of the major packs in Europe; there were only two individual objectors, but they have no choice but to co-operate now that their leader has agreed."

"Excellent work, Rodolphus." The Dark Lord said quietly, sitting back in his chair. "I do believe that this meeting is now over. You are dismissed."

The Death Eaters began filtering from the room, and as Bellatrix made to leave, the Dark Lord wrapped his fingers around her wrist to stop her. She turned to him with a small smile on her face.

"Yes, my Lord?" She whispered.

"I cannot dine with you this evening, Bella, for there is something important to which I must attend. But you shall not be at a loss, for it seems that you will be very much occupied with this surprise reunion with your husband."

"Indeed, my Lord. Enjoy your evening, my Lord."

Bellatrix left the room without even looking at Rodolphus, but as she made her way to her bedroom she could hear his heavy footsteps behind her. She had been relocated once more to the room adjacent to the Dark Lord's shortly after their marriage, which was evidently much to Rodolphus' disgust, for he gave an audible snort of derision as she opened the door to the room. Bellatrix turned to face him as he shut the door behind them, her eyebrows raised.

"I had expected a warmer welcome, Bellatrix. It has, after all, been almost two years since I last saw you." Bellatrix did not respond, but it seemed that Rodolphus had not yet finished speaking. "However, from what I have heard from my colleagues, it sounds as if you have been quite occupied and content without me."

"You make it sound as if it is personal, Rodolphus, but I assure you that it isn't." Bellatrix replied icily. "I have missed your presence amongst us as much as the Dark Lord has."

"Are you completely his puppet now, Bella?" He hissed angrily. "At least when we last spoke you had a little fight in you, you hadn't completely given yourself over, but now...is it true what they say? Have you gone mad?"

"Do I look mad?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm as sane as you, Rodolphus, but making people believe I'm crazy...well it only makes them more afraid of seeing me on their doorstep."

Rodolphus did not respond, but simply motioned to the nearby chair.

"May I? I need to apply some salve to my scars." Bellatrix gave a curt nod, and tried to hide her curiosity, as Rodolphus removed his outer robes and sat down, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. She felt a swoop in her stomach at the sight of his bare chest, scars criss-crossing across it from beneath his neck to just above the belt of his trousers. His flesh was taut, his muscles defined; it was an image that Bellatrix was entirely unused to, so accustomed was she to seeing the older body of the Dark Lord. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling dry, and wondered if this was some kind of lust she was experiencing; she was not entirely certain, for she had never felt the emotion without the overwhelming sensation of obsession accompanying it. Bellatrix continued to watch as he removed a bottle of salve from his robes and began to rub it across his scars, she folded her arms and gave a small sigh.

"Are all of those scars from the werewolves?" Bellatrix asked quietly.

"Yes. It was hard at first, being amongst them and getting them to trust me. Thankfully I was never bitten, but...there were fights." He put the salve away and fastened his shirt again. He stared at her silently for a moment, and Bellatrix shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "It's very odd, don't you think, that we have been married for two years and yet have spent so little time together. I barely know anything about you, nor you me."

"I suppose you must have expected that, when the Dark Lord asked you to marry me. Everyone knew his preference for me, everyone knew that I was his favourite..."

"Of course I knew, but I hadn't quite expected...I at least thought we would have some semblance of a marriage." He gave a low, bitter chuckle. "But instead I have been sent away on dangerous missions to enable my wife to have an open affair with my master. It is hardly the stuff of dreams."

"I'm sorry." Bellatrix said quietly, surprised to find that she meant it. Rodolphus looked up and gave her a sad smile, shrugging his shoulders slightly. He stood up and made to leave, but Bellatrix walked over and gripped his arm. "The Dark Lord cannot dine with me tonight...would you like to?" Rodolphus looked at her for a moment, before slowly nodding his head.

They were to meet a few hours later in the dining room downstairs, and Bellatrix felt oddly nervous as she waited for him to arrive. When he entered the room, she was surprised to see that he was not dressed formally; he did not wear a cravat or even a pair of robes, but was dressed simply in a shirt and trousers. Bellatrix sat opposite him with the strong desire to laugh; she couldn't help but wonder if she was the only woman in the world who was nervous around her husband after two years of marriage. They ate in silence for a while, anxiously pushing their food around their plates and avoiding eye contact, until Bellatrix could not hold back the laughter any longer.

"This is ridiculous." She said, smirking when he looked at her in bafflement. "We know one another, we're friends, and it oughtn't to be as uncomfortable as this. Talk to me, tell me about your travels."

"There is very little to say. I have been travelling through Europe; from France to Germany, from Italy to Finland, and then to Russia...spending all of my days and many nights among various packs of werewolves to try and win their favour for the Dark Lord. It has not been easy, nor has it been exciting or fun...I would much rather have been here in relative safety with the rest of the Death Eaters, but the job needed to be done."

"The Dark Lord must be certain of your abilities if he entrusted such a mammoth task to you." Rodolphus gave a bitter laugh.

"If you believe my abilities are the reason why I was given that task, Bellatrix, then you are more naive than I thought you to be." He gave a fatigued sigh and shook his head. "Let us talk of something else entirely, for I do not wish to argue with you. How are your family?"

"As you know, I'm estranged from most of them." Bellatrix said with a smile. "But Narcissa is well. She and Lucius are still blissfully happy, to the point where it is almost nauseating. Lucius is highly-favoured by the Dark Lord, and so Narcissa reaps the benefits."

Bellatrix looked up and was surprised to see that Rodolphus was staring at her with a look of rage upon his face. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as if trying to prevent himself from exploding, but Bellatrix couldn't quite work out what had enraged him so. She reached across the table to take his hand, but he swiftly snatched it away.

"May I be frank with you, Bellatrix? May I ask you a question, to which I would like an honest answer?"

"Certainly." Bellatrix replied with a slight frown. "As I said, we're friends, Rodolphus."

He leant forwards seriously, his hand balled into a fist, his jaw firmly set. An image of her father was brought to the forefront of Bellatrix's mind, years ago when he too had sat opposite her like that, preparing to warn her against the dangers of Voldemort. She rarely thought of her father, and the distant pang of guilt that she felt in her chest reminded her why. Rodolphus took a deep breath, before beginning to speak.

"Have you ever thought...have you ever considered what will happen when the Dark Lord takes power? It won't be fun anymore, Bellatrix; there'll be no scampering through burning villages, screaming and cackling like a child at a fun fair...It will become a serious game, one which requires study and thought...I can see already that you are not prepared for it, you were falling asleep in the meeting this afternoon."

"Of course I haven't thought about the politics or the serious things..." Bellatrix replied with a sigh. "But that isn't anything to do with me...I didn't sign up for politics and scheming...that isn't what I'm here for."

"Then you are a _fool_." Rodolphus hissed. "Don't you understand that your position alongside the Dark Lord, the position you have wrangled for and signed your life away to keep, throws you into the very heart of this?"

"The Dark Lord will protect me. He has sworn to protect me."

"But what will happen to you if the Dark Lord is not in a position to help you?" Rodolphus said. He stood up and walked to stand behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her neck. She shivered slightly as he leant forwards and rested his chin upon her shoulder, before whispering in her ear. "What if the Dark Lord does not succeed? I believe that he will, I will do everything in my power to ensure that he will, but you need to be sensible, Bella. You need to make provisions to keep yourself safe."

"The Dark Lord would kill you if he heard you say such a thing." Bellatrix said icily, pushing her chair back and standing to her feet. She turned to look at him, her brows furrowed. "I think dinner is over, Rodolphus. So if that is all..."

"It isn't." He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her. "Do you think he loves you, Bellatrix? Do you believe that he truly cares for you? I can tell you that he does not – you are a plaything, a toy, a luxury to which he may have access whenever the mood takes him."

"Rodolphus..." Bellatrix warned, her voice low and gruff.

"And what happens when one becomes tired of a toy? One simply throws it away. This could happen to you too Bellatrix, if you do not become more savvy, if you do not play by the rules and protect yourself."

"What would you have me do, Rodolphus?" Bellatrix demanded, smirking cruelly. "I suppose you would have me turn to you for protection instead? A man who has fallen so far from the favour of our Master that he is on the brink of being excluded from the Death Eaters all together."

"My position amongst the Death Eaters – " Rodolphus started angrily.

"Is in a much more precarious position than mine." Bellatrix interrupted firmly. "Whatever is driving you to say all of this, Rodolphus, whatever you believe...the Dark Lord favours me, and I am closer to him than anyone else amongst his servants. I serve him, I trust him..."

"You _love _him." Rodolphus spat, his tone accusing and damning. "But I swear to you, Bellatrix, that if there is a man on this earth who has never felt love for another single soul, it is him. Not even you will change that." Bellatrix stood still for a moment, his words feeling like a slap to her face. She let out a small sigh, closing her eyes.

"You have said enough, Rodolphus, and were you to say any more...it could be classed as treason." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "You needn't speak to me again, Rodolphus; in fact, I command you not to. Good evening."

Bellatrix left the room and shut the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she tried desperately to stop herself from shaking. She wasn't entirely certain why Rodolphus' words had struck her so much but, although she would not admit it to him, they truly had. She crossed her arms and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and evenly. There were times, such as this one, that she felt as if she would be completely overwhelmed by her situation; she didn't feel like herself, she didn't feel happy or free, but instead she felt trapped. Like a wave had crashed over her and she was being held just inches beneath the water, floundering and unable to breathe yet still able to see the beauty and freedom of the sky above her. Was that what had happened to her? Was she trapped in this place by the Dark Lord, unable to escape?

Bellatrix began to run down the corridor, pushing past people in the hallway and flinging open the front doors. She stopped and took in a deep gulp of fresh air, as if she truly had been drowning, before setting off at a run again. She did not stop until she arrived in the clearing in the centre of the forest that was used for apparition, throwing herself onto the ground and resting the back of her head against a tree trunk. It would be hours until the Dark Lord returned, but Bellatrix would wait there for him until he did. She needed to see him, she needed desperate reassurance that she could not leave his side, that she had made the right choice.

She was not sure how long she had sat there for she had fallen asleep, and was only awoken when the loud pop of apparition rang out around the forest. Her eyes flickered open and she saw the Dark Lord walking slowly towards her. He towered over her, skeletally thin with unusually large fingers that stretched towards her menacingly. Bellatrix tilted her head up towards him, looking at him properly for the first time in months. It struck her that he didn't seem human anymore, for his movement, his mannerisms and his eyes seemed to be those of a snake. But as she reached out and placed her hand into his, pulling herself to her feet, Bellatrix was once again struck by the familiar ache of infatuation. She could not conceive, as his fingernails dug into her tender skin, how she had ever doubted that she belonged there with him. She _belonged _with him. He was the other half of her.

"My Lord..." She breathed longingly, swaying slightly.

"What are you doing here, Bella? Why are you out here?"

"I was waiting for your return, my Lord. I was impatient for it." He smirked, and Bellatrix's muscles relaxed.

"Your devotion is pleasing to me, Bella." He drawled quietly, before turning to the small group of Death Eaters who waited for him. "You may go back to the house."

The Dark Lord set off into the forest, his strides wide and his speed swift, leaving Bellatrix only to follow him. She did so in silence, barely daring to breathe as they made their way deeper into the woods, the only sounds the cracking of branches underfoot and birds hooting in the trees above them. Bellatrix jumped when Voldemort came to a sudden halt and rounded on her, placing a hand against each of her shoulders and pushing her back against a tree. She gasped as he lurched forwards and pressed his lips against her neck, dragging his teeth against her flesh before whispering lustily in her ear.

"Lift up your robes, Bella, and remove your underwear."

She blushed slightly as she reached down and hitched her robes up above her waist, before slipping her underwear down her legs until they settled in a pool around her ankles. The Dark Lord placed his hands at the back of her knees and lifted her effortlessly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck for support. They stood there like that for a long moment, neither speaking nor moving, and Bellatrix fought the desire to turn away from him. She knew that to do so would only anger him, but part of her knew that that was exactly what he wanted her to do. Instead, she closed her eyes and waited, letting out a loud gasp when he roughly thrust into her. She screwed her eyes shut as he rutted relentlessly, grunting loudly with every thrust, caring neither for her own pleasure nor even for her comfort. After a few moments he reached his climaxed, his sharp fingernails digging into the flesh of her legs until she gave a hiss of pain. They stood still for a moment when he had finished, just as they had before they had begun, before he stepped slowly away from her and left the forest.

Bellatrix remained standing there, staring at his retreating back with a lump in her throat and an ache in her chest. She suddenly shivered and realised that it was actually rather cold, and she had a pain in her shoulder that hadn't been there before. Taking a deep, juddering breath, Bellatrix tried to recover her feeling of security, tried desperately to cling onto the joy that she had once felt to be touched by him. But she could not. All she felt was cold, frustrated and alone. Rodolphus' words about love came flooding back to her, and she felt as if her knees were about to buckle. Her heart hammered as she realised, stood alone in the cold forest with the moonlight beaming down on her and the traces of what they had just down trickling down the inside of her leg, that she had not yet learnt her lesson. She was still in love with the Dark Lord, and she knew that the very truth of it would kill her.


	16. Sixteen

_November 1978_.

Bellatrix stood in the dark alleyway, the fur-lined hood of her robes pulled closely around her face to protect her from the cold and prevent anyone from identifying her. Not that there were many people passing, for it was the middle of the night and the snow was coming down so heavily that it was barely possible to see. She gave a frustrated sigh and reached into the pocket of her robes, removing a brass pocket watch; they were ten minutes late, and she was becoming impatient. Leaning forwards slightly, she stuck her head out and looked down the main street of Hogsmeade, feeling a swoop of relief in her stomach when she saw a small group heading towards her. She stepped backwards and waited until they came into the alleyway, before turning away from them and walking further into the labyrinth of alleys. She stopped in front of a small wooden door and stepped inside, giving a relieved sigh as a wall of warmth hit her.

Once inside the privacy of the room, Bellatrix removed her outer robes and folded them over the back of a chair. She sat down and motioned for the small group to join her, watching in silence as they too removed their robes and took seats. Lucius was amongst them, and he sat in the chair next to Bellatrix, opposite the other three people in the room. Bellatrix let her eyes drift along, inspecting those who she had come to interview; she felt a small relief at the fact that they were all wizards. It had become a daily fear of hers, some would say an obsession, that the Dark Lord would throw her over in favour of a younger, prettier, more powerful witch. It had been fifteen months since Rodolphus had returned, and Bellatrix had not spoken to him since, but it was as if the words that he had uttered that night were etched upon her brain.

"Good evening gentlemen." Lucius said quietly, breaking the silence that had lingered over the room. Bellatrix gave a small sigh and resisted the urge to shake her head; she was bored of the interviews before they had even begun, and she did not appreciate the melodrama and the mystery that surrounded it. "You are here because you have expressed an interest in joining the service of the Dark Lord. Is this correct?" A murmur of agreement came from the three wizards, and Bellatrix gave another sigh as Lucius looked to her to continue.

"In order to be accepted into the ranks of the Death Eaters, you must prove your worth to the Dark Lord himself." She said quietly. "But before you can even be considered for such an honour, you must show us that you are worthy."

"What are your names?" Lucius asked quietly, smoothing out a piece of parchment on the table in front of them. "Your identities will largely remain a secret; only the Dark Lord and his closest servants know the identities of all of his followers."

"Julian Noble." One of the men muttered, looking nervously around the room. Bellatrix could almost smell his reluctance, his fear, and she knew before they had even begun that he would not be successful.

"Severus Snape." Another said. Bellatrix recognised the name from Sirius' tales of school; he was supposedly an intelligent boy, but widely loathed and prone to lashing out. There could be potential there, she thought to herself as Lucius scribbled down his name. Finally, the third boy spoke, his name inciting a gasp of surprise from Bellatrix.

"I'm Bartemius Crouch."

"_Crouch_?" She hissed, leaning forwards in her chair. "As in, the son of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"Yes...yes." He muttered. He was a timid-looking thing and, if Bellatrix remembered correctly, greatly resembled his mother; he was thin and wispy, and at least two years younger than the other two recruits, making him around sixteen years of age. Bellatrix sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, staring at them silently with narrowed eyes.

"Why do you want to join the Death Eaters? What motivates you? The search for power? Your hatred for Mudbloods? Lust or love?"

"I _hate _my father." Bartemius Crouch hissed suddenly, causing Bellatrix and the rest of the recruits to jump slightly. Lucius raised an eyebrow. "He represents a Ministry that ignores the desires of the people; a Ministry that buries anyone who doesn't sit meekly by and tolerate whatever _bullshit _they want to push down our throats. The Ministry wants to crush whatever honour, whatever power the purebloods once had and I want to change all that. I would _kill _to change all that."

There was something manic about him, something terrifying that flashed in his wide, innocent eyes that struck Bellatrix. She leant towards him, resting her arms on the table and looked at him more closely. Bartemius Crouch reminded Bellatrix of herself. He was just as desperate to climb out of the pit that his parents had dug for him that he would do whatever he could, masking the true reason behind this veneer of hatred for the Ministry. She knew then that, no matter what else happened that night, she would ensure that Bartemius Crouch got what he wanted. He was perfect for the Death Eaters – the Dark Lord desired blank slates of ivory into which he could engrave his own creations.

"Snape?" Lucius said coldly. The dark-haired wizard sat back in his chair and sneered at Lucius and Bellatrix, as if it were them under scrutiny and not he.

"Whilst I am not as enflamed as Bartemius here, I must simply say that I have knowledge that the Dark Lord needs. I am extremely adept at both the Dark Arts and the art of brewing potions, and I have even created Dark Magic of my own..."

His answer was lacklustre following the zeal of Crouch's answer, but Bellatrix nevertheless thought that he held promise. She turned to look at Noble, and saw that he was shaking uncontrollably, his eyes darting to the door every second, as if contemplating whether or not he was fast enough to flee.

"What about you, Noble?" Bellatrix hissed, her voice menacingly low. "What brings you to us?"

"I...I..." He looked around wildly, before screwing his eyes shut tightly. "I came here because Severus asked me to. I can't join him, I can't! I don't think...I...let me go! Please, let me go!"

Lucius jumped from his seat and grabbed the collar of Noble's robes, lifting him from his seat and throwing him against the wall. Bellatrix stood too and removed her wand, pointing it at the shaking boy.

"You dare to come here and waste the Dark Lord's time?" Lucius hissed venomously, spittle flying into Noble's terrified face. "You have learnt too much by coming here and changing your mind, and you must be punished for it." Bellatrix spun to face the two recruits, pointing her wand at them and tossing her head in Noble's direction.

"Snape," she barked, "show us some of the Dark Magic you supposedly created yourself. Use it on Noble."

Snape stood and slowly crossed the room, no appearance of hesitation or regret written on his hawk-like features. Bellatrix was impressed; if, like Noble had said, he had come because Snape had asked him, the two of them were evidently friends. If Snape was willing to turn his back on a friend in service of the Dark Lord, he could go very far through the ranks indeed. Bellatrix stood back to allow him to get closer to Noble, and took a deep intake of breath as Snape pointed his wand at his friend. He stared at him silently for a moment before, his voice barely audibly, muttering a spell.

"_Sectumsempra!" _Bellatrix let out the breath she had been holding as large slashes begun to appear all over Noble's body. Even Lucius looked impressed, as he relinquished his grip of Noble and let him slide helplessly to the floor, blood seeping from his wounds.

"Teach me how to do it!" Bellatrix hissed, causing Snape to smirk at her.

"You wield your wand through the air as if it was a knife – the spell is easy enough, _sectumsempra_!"

"_Sectumsempra_!" Bellatrix yelled, doing as Snape had done and creating a lot of smaller slashes that crossed Noble's face. She gave a contented chuckle and turned to look at Snape. "I can say with some confidence, Snape, that if the rest of your spells are like this one, the Dark Lord will be more than willing to accept you into his ranks."

Both Lucius and Bellatrix turned slightly to look at Bartemius Crouch, who was stood staring helplessly at Noble's almost-lifeless form slumped against the wall. He held his wand limply in his left hand, and Bellatrix could tell that he was shaking slightly. Bellatrix crossed the room towards him, standing behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder. She leant forwards, bringing her mouth close to his ear, and whispered.

"Finish him off, Barty." She said. "Anyway you choose to, anyway you can, just do the job."

She kept her hand on his shoulder as he lifted his arm and pointed his wand. Noble gave a small groan of pain which, for a moment, Bellatrix thought would prevent Crouch from completing his task. She dug her fingernails gently into the flesh of his shoulder, which seemed to break him from his trance.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" The flash of emerald light was almost blinding, and the force of his curse was so great that it sent both Barty and Bellatrix staggering backwards. She gently slapped his back as a form of congratulation, before nodding slightly at Lucius.

"Congratulations Severus, Barty. The Dark Lord would be glad to have you amongst his ranks, we are certain. Go away from here as quickly as possible, and someone will contact you shortly about officially joining the Death Eaters. I will apparate you as close to the castle as possible, Barty. Bellatrix shall finish off here."

Bellatrix watched as Lucius grabbed hold of Barty's arm and disapparated, before Snape too left the room seconds later. She looked coldly at Noble's corpse, before giving a heavy sigh and pointing her wand towards the ceiling.

"_Morsmordre_." Seconds later, she disapparated.

When she arrived back at the Headquarters, Bellatrix slowly removed her gloves as she walked towards the Dark Lord's study. She knocked on the door thrice, waited a moment, before pushing it open and stepping into the warmly-lit room. The Dark Lord was sitting alone by the fire as she had expected, his head bent over a detailed list of future targets and their whereabouts. It seemed that he had lately grown obsessed with the idea that a mole had been planted among the Death Eaters to get close to him and kill him, and he had killed two Death Eaters in that week alone, so convinced had he been that they were the spies. He looked up when she approached, and Bellatrix felt a sting of disappointment when his eyes were cold; it seemed that he did not even have an appetite for her anymore, and all he wanted to do was discuss the war. She sank to the floor in front of him and rested her head against his leg, giving a small sigh when he reached out and stroked her hair.

"You have been recruiting tonight, Bella." He stated.

"Yes, my Lord. Lucius and I have found two promising recruits." She gave a small hiss of pain as he roughly tugged her hair. "One, Severus Snape, gave an impressive demonstration of a spell he created himself; we used it to kill the third recruit, who would have been no good to you, my Lord."

"And what of the other?"

"The other is Bartemius Crouch Junior, the son of the Ministry official." The Dark Lord gave a contented chuckle.

"Useful indeed. Is he skilled? Do you think he will be capable?"

"He performed the Killing Curse very adeptly." Bellatrix responded, hesitating for a moment. "But he is a little timid...I intend to take him under my wing, my Lord. I can see in him a potential for great power." The Dark Lord placed a bony finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up to look at him.

"Much as I did with you, Bella. If he is anything as useful to me as you have been, I will be most pleased indeed." He let go and reached over to the small table next to him, picking up a scroll of parchment and handing it to Bellatrix. "This missive came whilst you were away."

Bellatrix tore open the seal, recognising the elegant handwriting of Narcissa's. The ink was smudged in places, as if her sister had been crying whilst writing it. Bellatrix read the letter frantically, scrunching it up tightly in her hands when she had finished.

"My mother is dead, my Lord. She died this afternoon of a heart attack...the Healers could not help her." Bellatrix felt as if she was being strangled by the silence in the room. She longed for him to reach out and comfort her, she longed for him to hold him against her and assure her that everything would be alright. But she knew that he never would, that Druella Black's death was as insignificant to him as an ant beneath his foot. Bellatrix took a shaky breath. "I must go to the house with my sister tomorrow, my Lord. Do I have your permission?"

"I cannot spare you for long, Bella. I must have you here. You may go for an hour at most. Do you understand?"

"Of course, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord."

Bellatrix stood in the hallway of her childhood home with the overwhelming sensation that she had never really left it. It certainly did not feel like five years since she had last crossed that threshold; everything had begun to sour then but the rot had not yet truly set in. She jumped a little at the sudden sensation of Narcissa's hand on her shoulder, before stepping further into the house. They walked through the rooms together in silence, and Bellatrix could hardly bear to see the ruin in which her mother had left it; dust covered every surface, the mirror in the drawing room was smashed, and a damp smell lingered in the air. When they came through to the conservatory, the room that had once been Bellatrix's favourite, she came to a sudden stop.

"Why is it like this?" Bellatrix hissed, hot tears welling in her eyes. "Why did she let it get like this?"

"I suppose she had no reason to care for it. What with you and Andromeda being estranged from her...and the fact that I seldom visited..." Narcissa's voice cracked, and Bellatrix could tell that she was on the brink of tears. "I should have visited! Why didn't I come more often?"

"There is no point in regrets, Cissy." Narcissa rounded on Bellatrix, tears streaming down her face.

"Have you become so hard-hearted, Bella, that you cannot even grieve the death of your own _mother_? Has he really squeezed all emotion from you?"

"Of course not." Bellatrix replied quietly. "But I have felt nothing for my mother in years. Why should I begin when she is dead?"

"Because you need to atone for what you have done."

Both Narcissa and Bellatrix turned to face the door at the sound of a new voice, surprised to see Andromeda standing there, a small child of about five years old standing beside her. Narcissa let out a loud sob and rushed towards her older sister, throwing her arms around her neck in an uncomfortable embrace. Andromeda placed a hand on Narcissa's shoulder and gently pushed her away, stepping backwards and taking hold of the child's hand.

"I am not here to make amends with either of you." She said quietly. "In fact, I didn't think I would see either of you here at all."

"Of course we would come...we wanted to say goodbye to our mother, Drom."

"Don't call me that." Andromeda hissed. "You gave up your right to be so familiar with me when you sided with _her_, when you began following You-Know-Who, when our family _disowned _me."

"We have all had to make choices, some of which we might not be happy about but were necessary." Narcissa said pleadingly. "I would do anything for Lucius, Andromeda; I love him. I'm sure you would do the same for...for your husband."

"His name is _Ted_." Andromeda said. "Ted Tonks, muggleborn wizard, and not at all ashamed of the fact."

"Who...who is that?" Narcissa asked, motioning to the child.

"My daughter, Nymphadora." Andromeda replied, clutching the girl against her more tightly, as if afraid that they were going to steal her away.

"She's beautiful."

"Enough of this!" Bellatrix said loudly, the sound of her voice resounding around the room. "Enough of this pretence. Tell me, _Drom_, why I shouldn't just kill you now in front of your own child? I could take her away...to the Headquarters of the Dark Lord, and she could be raised as one of us...why shouldn't I do that? Tell me, _why_?" Bellatrix was disappointed to see that Andromeda did not look shaken; she simply stared at her sisters unfeelingly.

"Because I hope that you will use whatever last scrap of humanity you have left." She said quietly. "Of all the things I thought you would become, Bella, I didn't ever believe you would become such a monster."

"Go." Bellatrix said quietly. "Just _go_! And take that mongrel bitch with you!"

Andromeda and her child ran from the room, leaving Bellatrix and Narcissa staring at the empty doorway. Bellatrix turned to see that Narcissa was looking away from her, her head bent, trying to discretely wipe the tears away from her eyes. She approached her younger sister slowly and placed a hand upon her shoulder, but Narcissa wrenched her body away from her, looking up finally with a glare of hatred on her face.

"Are you happy?" Narcissa hissed. "Are you happy that you have finally, _finally, _destroyed the last of all we have?"

"Cissy..."

"Do you see all of this? All of this destruction was caused by _you_, Bellatrix. I don't even think you realise yourself how far you have truly strayed. You're not the person you once were, you're not even the girl who was so enamoured by the Dark Lord and so thrilled by her own strength, you're just...hollow...empty."

"I am terribly grateful that you feel you can speak your mind so frankly." Bellatrix growled.

"I simply could not contain it a moment longer." Narcissa reached out and gripped her sister's hands, clutching them tightly when Bellatrix tried to wriggle free. "I am terrified that we are going to lose you, Bella. You don't seem to think about anyone anymore; you aren't concerned about what you do to me, or to Rodolphus, who I think truly cares for you...you don't even worry about what you might be doing to _yourself_. All you can think about is _him_."

"I...I'm sorry." Bellatrix muttered; for the first time, in a very long time, truly meaning it. "But there's nothing I can do about it. I _belong _to him, Cissy, and when I try to think of life without him...I feel like I might just die."

"But he doesn't _love _you!" Narcissa shouted, her eyes bulging and her whole body shaking. "I love you, Lucius loves you, even Rodolphus loves you, and I am begging of you, Bella, to distance yourself from him...before it's too late."

"I _can't_, Narcissa. I can't. Not even for you." Narcissa relinquished her grip on Bellatrix's hand, staggering backwards slightly.

"He'll be the death of you, Bella." Narcissa whispered sadly. "It would not surprise me if he killed you himself."

"I know." Bellatrix replied quietly. "I expect him to do it every day, sometimes I even pray for him to."

And then Narcissa left, the only sounds the clicking of her heels on the floor and the shaky tremor of Bellatrix's breath.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Well, here is the next instalment! Many thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last lot of chapters._


	17. Seventeen

_December 1978_

In the large field behind the Headquarters, a tall bonfire raged and roared, sending a huge billow of smoke into the air. The path that headed towards the house was lit with flaming lanterns, which cast ominous shadows onto the facade of the house. Bellatrix headed down the path towards the bonfire, her footsteps light on the gravel, her eyes stinging slightly as the ash and smoke blew into her face. She joined the crowd of Death Eaters that had already begun to gather there; some wore masks to conceal their identities, others did not, but everyone there was excited. The atmosphere of apprehension and anticipation lingered heavily in the air, and Bellatrix felt almost drunk from it. She spotted Lucius standing in the crowd and went to stand by him, greeting him with a gentle pat of his arm. He gave a miserable sigh and bent down to whisper in her ear.

"This is ghastly, Bellatrix. It's so...tasteless and melodramatic."

"I know." Bellatrix replied, folding her arms. "It's nothing like the ceremony in which we took part. Now it is a spectator sport."

"Couldn't you persuade the Dark Lord to change his mind?"

Bellatrix's stomach flipped. The truth, which she would not confess to anyone, was that she had not spoken to the Dark Lord in at least a fortnight. He had not called her into his study, nor into his bedroom; the only time she saw him was at meetings, in the same surroundings as everyone else. Although this concerned Bellatrix, she would have been far more worried were it not for the fact that he did not speak to anyone. There were rumours abound that he left the house for days at a time, travelling alone and informing no one of his whereabouts. One of the house elves had mentioned that the Dark Lord no longer ate or drank – Bellatrix thought this rumour was particularly ridiculous, for how else was a mortal man to survive?

At that moment, silence fell around the bonfire and all eyes turned to the door of the house. The Dark Lord processed towards the bonfire, followed by the four new recruits who were to be officially sworn in that night. Bellatrix stood on her tiptoes, looking desperately to see if she could spot Barty amongst the recruits. In the month since they had first met, Bellatrix had spent a great deal of time preparing Barty for his membership to the Death Eaters. She found that he was a shy and timid boy but, when provoked, had the fiercest temper of anyone that Bellatrix had ever met – it was worse than that of the Dark Lord himself. She and Barty had been practicing duelling one afternoon, and he had shattered all of the windows on the ground floor of the house with the power of one simple spell. But it was not only Barty's magical prowess that made a big impression on Bellatrix, but also how comfortable she felt in his company. He was easy to talk to and confide in, and he did not judge her the way that Narcissa did. He was just the company that Bellatrix needed after her rift with Narcissa. She watched as the new recruits joined them around the bonfire, and the Dark Lord raised his hands.

"My loyal followers! We are here tonight to witness the swearing in of four new recruits. When I call your name, you will step forwards and receive your Dark Mark. Known that you fight now for a higher cause, for the rights of the pure to be restored, and the power of the Dark Lord to be known by all." There was a smattering of applause. "Peter Pettigrew, step forwards. Do you bow to me as your master and take the Dark Mark tonight?"

"Y...yes, my Lord." The Dark Lord pressed his wand against Pettigrew's arm, causing him to give a loud shriek of pain. The other recruits shifted nervously.

"Severus Snape, do you bow to me as your master and take the Dark Mark tonight?"

"Yes, my Lord." Bellatrix leant forwards a little, surprised when Snape gave no sign of being in pain; he neither fell nor cried out in anguish, but simply stared stoically at the feet of the Dark Lord.

"Bartemius Crouch Junior. Do you bow to me as your master and take the Dark Mark tonight?"

"Yes...Yes, my Lord." Bellatrix felt a swell of pride, which was quickly replaced by concern as Barty shrieked loudly and fell completely to the ground. She had to fight the urge to step forwards to help him; it would not be looked upon kindly by the Dark Lord. There was just one recruit left, but Bellatrix had no idea who it was. She had only recruited the other three, and had only heard of their being a fourth that very night.

"Regulus Black. Do you bow to me as your master and take the Dark Mark tonight?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Bellatrix was stunned. Neither her aunt nor Regulus himself had mentioned a desire to join the Death Eaters. He had been intrigued all of those years ago of course, when Bellatrix had lived at Grimmauld Place, but she had never believed he would actively choose to join. The Death Eaters all stood in silence until the new recruits stopped crying in pain. The Dark Lord left, signalling that it was permissible for the rest of them to leave. There was to be no party afterwards, no official celebration, but Bellatrix had already arranged to have drinks with Barty in his room after officially moving him into it. When she realised that Regulus was returning to consciousness, she pushed through the crowd and offered a hand to help him up. He took it with a wide smile.

"Bellatrix! I wondered if I'd see you here."

"Of course you were going to see me. I'm more surprised that I'm seeing _you_. When did you decide to join?"

"A fortnight ago. I'm friends with Barty, you see, and he mentioned that you'd been helping him out...I've been a supporter of the Dark Lord for a long time, now..." Regulus held out his arm, grinning at his new Dark Mark, "it's official!"

"What does your mother think about this?" Bellatrix demanded. "My Aunt Walburga was...well, she did not think highly of the Death Eaters the last time I saw her."

"She was pleased, I think." Regulus replied. "She hasn't spoken to Sirius for the last three years, you know. He moved out, he's been living with one of his friends from school. Mother blasted him off the family tree and everything."

"Well your brother always was an unbearable little snot." Bellatrix replied, sniffing slightly. "Now that I know you're here, would you like to come to a little party? I organised a few drinks and things for Barty, and I would be more than glad if you came along."

"That would be great!"

"Are we all invited?" A voice from behind said. Bellatrix turned slightly to see that Snape and Pettigrew had approached. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow at them both, to which Snape replied with an arrogant smirk.

"I suppose..." She said haughtily. "It will be taking place in Barty's room."

"Barty? No, I'd rather not spend much time in his company, little rodent that he is."

"I won't hear you talking about him like that." Bellatrix replied, stepping forwards. "You need to learn your place here, _Snape, _and it certainly isn't giving cheek to me."

"Why?" Snape replied, smirking. "What authority does a _whore _like you have over me?"

Bellatrix slapped Snape sharply across the face, causing several people nearby to turn around and look at them. She withdrew her wand and waved it several times, tying his arms and legs together, removing his robes and leaving him in his underwear, and writing her name across his forehead in small boils. Several of the Death Eaters laughed and applauded, causing Snape to blush scarlet red. Bellatrix chuckled loudly, stepping closer to him. She gripped the base of his throat, digging her fingernails into his flesh.

"I shall let you off easily this time, Snape, for you are new around here. But remember this – everyone knows it to be true. I have the Dark Lord's ear, I am dangerous, and I am not afraid to use my wand. You are not _special _Snape, because you are powerful. We are all powerful here, and after another wrong move like that...you will see just how much power I have. Come on."

Bellatrix turned and strode away from Snape, smirking to herself as she heard Pettigrew and Regulus hurrying behind her. No one wanted to associate with Snape after the display he had just made, and Bellatrix was determined to make his life at Headquarters an absolute misery.

Barty's room was on the second floor of the house, close to where Bellatrix's old room used to be. It was humble as she had expected, but with a few touches of her own it was much more hospitable. House elves brought food and drinks, which Bellatrix passed around amongst the new recruits and a few other Death Eaters who she had invited to join them. They were laughing and talking until, suddenly, the door opened. Bellatrix turned and gave a quiet gasp as she saw the Dark Lord standing in the doorway. He looked somewhat bemused at the sight of the Death Eaters gathered before him, and entered the room slowly and silently. Bellatrix stood to meet him, walking forwards and holding out her hands. The Dark Lord took them and brought them slowly to his lips.

"Bellatrix, am I welcome at this soirée of yours?"

"Of course, my Lord. I did not invite you because I thought you would have far more important things to attend to than our silly little party."

"Not this evening." He replied. "I only heard about this event from Severus Snape, who I rescued from the lawn." The Dark Lord held out his hand, and Snape shuffled tentatively into the room. Bellatrix gave a small smirk; his clothes were returned, but the boils had not yet faded from his face.

"Ah." She said quietly. "Snape and I had a little disagreement about my place amongst the Death Eaters. I had no choice but to use...stronger methods to rectify his opinion, my Lord."

"Whatever you see as fitting, Bella." The Dark Lord said quietly. "Severus is here to apologise." Snape stepped in front of the Dark Lord, and he towered over Bellatrix. She looked up at him, a slight sneer upon her face when she saw that he was smirking.

"I am terribly sorry for being rude to you, Bellatrix. I hope you can forgive me."

"If the Dark Lord wishes it, I must." Bellatrix replied. "You may join the party if you wish, Snape."

Bellatrix turned to rejoin the rest of the group, but the Dark Lord reached out and wrapped his fingers tightly around her wrist. She gave a quiet hiss and turned to look at him, her eyes wide and inquisitive. The Dark Lord gave a wide smirk and stepped forwards, grasping her chin in his hand and bending his head. He kissed her fervently, his passion unbridled and a little improper for the company that they were in. When he pulled away, Bellatrix felt as if the room would never stop spinning; it felt like he was kissing her for the first time, like all of those years ago in her aunt's house. She looked around the room, smiling bashfully, her cheeks bright red.

"Will you join me for dinner tomorrow night? It has been too long since I had the pleasure of your company."

"Of course, my Lord." Bellatrix replied breathlessly.

"Hmm. I have missed you, Bella." He turned to look at the rest of the room. "I bid you a good night."

Bellatrix spent the whole of the next day preparing for her dinner with the Dark Lord. She had not felt so excited in such a long time, and all she could think of was how wonderful it would be to be in his company once more. She and Barty sat in the garden of the house, shivering in the cold; Bellatrix watched birds flying over head as Barty smoked cigarette after cigarette. His hands were shaking, and his eyes looked swollen from crying.

"How long did it take you to get used to being here?" He asked, taking a long drag.

"A little while..." Bellatrix replied, turning to look at him. "I suppose you must feel a little strange, what with all of this being new. But it isn't as bad as it might seem now...I promise."

"How did you get so close to the Dark Lord? How did you find yourself here?" Bellatrix smiled to herself as she fiddled with the hem of her dress, the memory of the night that she met the Dark Lord flashing at the forefront of her mind. She had been an entirely different person then, so weak and so naive.

"He found me." Bellatrix said after a few moments of silence. "He found me and plucked me from my pit...I'm grateful for the life he has given me; the one I would've had seems horrid to me even now."

"That's how I feel, you know." Barty replied, throwing his cigarette on the floor, stamping on it, and lighting another. "I couldn't bear to be in that house, doing everything my father says, watching my mother grow weaker as each day passes...I don't want my life to be sucked out of me the way it has been sucked out of her."

Bellatrix reached over and put an arm around Barty's shoulder, pulling him closer to her and squeezing him tightly.

"The only family I really have now is Narcissa and Regulus." Bellatrix said thoughtfully. "I killed my own father...my mother is dead, Andromeda is disowned..."

"What about your husband?"

Bellatrix's head whipped round at the sound of the new voice, to see Regulus standing at the top of the stairs upon which they sat. He skipped down the remaining steps and sat next to her, reaching over without a word and taking one of Barty's cigarettes. Both Bellatrix and Barty watched him in a sort of stunned silence, until he turned to them both with a somewhat cocky grin. "What kind of welcome is this, Bellatrix?"

"I'm...I'm a little surprised to see you here." She replied stiffly. "And to see you being so nice to me."

"I've had a little time to think whilst being away, and I decided to bury the hatchet for good. Besides, I hear that you're behaving a little more sensibly anyway, distancing yourself and so on..."

"Where have you been, anyway?" Bellatrix interrupted, arching an eyebrow at him.

"My brother and I have been recruiting abroad. We've spent the last few months at Durmstrang. It's a nice place; you should visit when you get the chance."

"Your brother?"

"Yes." Rodolphus grinned. "I don't suppose you ever took more than a moment to think that I may have family or interests outside of the Death Eaters. His name is Rabastan; he joined the Death Eaters about a year ago."

"He wasn't at Hogwarts..." Bellatrix said frowning.

"No, my mother sent him to Durmstrang instead. I'm not entirely sure why." Rodolphus looked over at Barty, who was sitting silently and uncomfortably. "Who's this?"

"This is Barty Crouch." Bellatrix replied. "He joined last night."

"Nice to meet you." Barty said quietly.

"Crouch? As in, Barty Crouch at the Ministry?"

"He's my father...unfortunately." Rodolphus chuckled.

"Yes, I've had the misfortune to meet him a few times. Horrible bloke. Is Bellatrix looking after you whilst you're here then?"

"Er...yes, yes I suppose so." Rodolphus shook his head.

"Merlin help you, then! It's a good job I'm back around here, really. Maybe I'll take you under my wing instead."

"How long are you here for?" Bellatrix replied, frowning. "Don't you have some other far-flung mission to attend to?"

"I'm back here indefinitely." Rodolphus replied with a smirk on his face. "So I guess you have to put up with me for a bit longer than you would like."

"I don't really care what you do, Rodolphus. It has long since stopped being any concern of mine."

"I am afraid that choice was taken out of your hands when we got married. You're Bellatrix Lestrange now – that's what they print your name as in the papers."

"I'd rather they didn't!" She snapped, rolling her eyes. "Merlin, can't you go back to how you were before, when you hated me and thought all of my decisions and actions were ridiculous? It is so much easier to hate you than to tolerate you."

"You have a lot of capacity to hate, don't you Bellatrix?" Rodolphus asked, tilting his head to one side and narrowing his eyes at her. "It's a shame you can't seem to be able to feel anything more."

Bellatrix watched, a churning sensation in her stomach, as he stood up and headed towards the door again. She would never admit it, but she was a little hurt that he did not believe her capable of feeling anything but hatred. She wanted to argue with him, to tell him of the compassion she felt for Barty, of the love she felt for her sister, the adoration she felt for the Dark Lord...that was feeling, wasn't it? Just before Rodolphus entered the house again, he stopped and turned to face Bellatrix.

"I have a message for you from the Dark Lord, by the way. He cannot dine with you tonight, for he has important matters to attend to. He sends his apologies, Bellatrix, and hopes that you are not too disappointed."

Bellatrix bit her lip as she turned away from him, in a desperate bid to suppress the tears that threatened to well in her eyes. She focused on the trees in the distance, trying to ignore the sensation of Barty staring at her intently. After a moment, Barty spoke.

"I didn't know you were married."

"Rodolphus and I married three years ago." She replied quietly. "It is a marriage of convenience, not of love."

"He seems nice."

"He isn't at all. He is opinionated and rude, stubborn and occasionally cruel – he is frustrating and unbearably annoying. He thinks the same of me, you know, so I wouldn't feel too sorry for him."

"I don't think that's true." Barty replied. Bellatrix turned to look at him, a quizzical expression on her face. Barty smiled. "I think...if you looked properly...you would see that he finds you quite the opposite. I think he likes you much more than you give him credit for."

Bellatrix stared at him blankly, her heart beating wildly in her chest for reasons that she could not understand. She shook her head with a sigh.

"That isn't true at all – you'll see that for yourself soon enough, I don't doubt."

Barty held out his cigarette box, and Bellatrix picked one out, lighting it and taking a long drag. She blew out the smoke, watching as it disappeared into the air, and found herself wishing that she could do the same. How much easier life would be for her, if she could simply fade away. Barty broke her melancholy reverie with a small cough.

"Now that you no longer have plans tonight, perhaps you want to eat with me? I know I'm no Dark Lord, but I don't think my company is too terrible." Bellatrix gave a small chuckle and cuffed him playfully around the head.

"Of course. You can invite your new friend Rodolphus, if you wish."

"I think I just might." Barty replied with a small smile, before they both fell back into a companionable silence.


	18. Eighteen

_Christmas 1979_

Bellatrix stood in the hallway outside of the Dark Lord's study, her feet together, her back straight, her eyes fixed on the shiny oak of the door. She took a deep breath, before reaching out her left hand and giving three short raps. In her other hand, she held a small wrapped gift for the Dark Lord. It was Christmas Day, and the festivities were in full swing in the dining room, but the Dark Lord had not been seen for the entire day. In fact, the Dark Lord had seldom been seen in the last few weeks, and his temper only seemed to be getting worse. Two Death Eaters and a house elf had been killed in the past year, having displeased him in one way or another, and for this reason it was growing increasingly more difficult to recruit new members. On top of that, the war appeared to have halted to a complete standstill. There had been no direct conflicts in the past three months, and the Dark Lord didn't seem to have come any closer to taking over at the Ministry.

After a few moments of waiting, the door opened a fraction and Bellatrix stepped into the room. The Dark Lord was sitting by the fireplace, his booted feet propped up on the grate, his eyes focused intently on the flame. Bellatrix approached carefully and quietly, kneeling by the side of his chair as she had always done; it seemed such a long time since she had been close to him, and now the very idea of it frightened her a little. The Dark Lord put his hand gently atop Bellatrix's head, and her heart gave a gentle flutter. She sighed a little.

"Merry Christmas, my Lord. We were disappointed that you did not join us for dinner."

"I have been immersed deep in thought, Bella." Voldemort replied darkly, his eyes still fixed firmly on the fireplace, his hand gently ruffling her hair. "I have been reflecting on the past year and what has happened, and what I hope shall happen in the next year."

"It has been a year of great successes, my Lord." Bellatrix said. "You are still the most powerful man in the Wizarding World; your followers are devoted to you, my Lord..."

"But they are not always devoted, are they? I know that they whisper doubts about me, I know that they think I grow weaker every day. Perhaps they are right...perhaps I am not the wizard I used to be."

"That is not true, my Lord." Bellatrix said frantically, moving to kneel opposite him. She reached up and took his face between her hands, bring her face closer to his and looking deep into his eyes. He looked weaker, it was impossible to deny it. His eye sockets seemed hollower, his skin had a greyish tinge of death, and there was an atmosphere about him...an atmosphere of rot, of decay. Bellatrix found it hard to reconcile her memories of the Dark Lord as a passionate lover, of the charming man who seduced her all of those years ago, with the shell of a man who sat before her. She closed her eyes and summoned the image to the forefront of her mind, her heart pounding as she did so. When she opened them again, she felt shaken as if she had met him for the first time once again. She smiled. "I have never met a man with such prowess as you, my Lord. Those who doubt you deserve to be killed, and they shall be when you achieve all that you deserve. It will not be long before you are Lord of everything, I can feel it in my gut."

The Dark Lord gave a small smile, revealing yellowing, crooked teeth. He reached out and dragged a fingernail along the edge of her cheek, cupping her chin in his hand. Bellatrix gave a breathy sigh, her eyelids fluttering closed – despite her repulsion to his looks, he still succeeded in creating physical sensations that Bellatrix had never experienced elsewhere. The Dark Lord brushed his lips against Bellatrix's earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine.

"I had forgotten how truly beautiful you are, Bella. It has been too long since you have been in my company."

"I have missed you terribly, my Lord." She whispered, her voice shaky as he planted biting kisses down her neck. "You have grown distant and lonely...you don't even have time for me anymore, my Lord."

"You are insolent, Bellatrix." He hissed, a tone of warning lacing his words. Bellatrix gave a yelp of pain as, suddenly, the Dark Lord buried his hands in the hair at the nape of her neck, before roughly yanking her head backwards.

"I only say it because I am devoted to you, my Lord! I mean no disrespect, my Lord, I swear."

"Tell me, Bella." He spat, leaning his face so that it was inches from hers. "Tell me that you are still mine. Tell me that nothing I could ever do, nothing I could order you to do, would ever stop you from being devoted to me."

"Of course I am still yours. I shall be yours until the moment I die, my Lord. " Bellatrix sobbed. "The whole world knows me as the Dark Lord's most loyal servant, I am your best lieutenant, my Lord, and I live only to be yours. What else do I have?"

The Dark Lord lunged forwards and pressed his lips against hers, leaving her head reeling and her heart thumping wildly in her chest. When he pulled away, she gave a deep sigh and a wide smile, before opening her eyes to see that the Dark Lord was beckoning for someone, or something, to come forwards.

"I am glad to hear of your loyalty, Bellatrix." The Dark Lord said quietly. "There is someone, now, that I would like you to meet."

Bellatrix frowned as she heard a strange sliding or scraping noise approaching her; her eyes narrowed as she looked at the floor, giving a loud gasp as a large snake appeared from behind the Dark Lord's chair. He gave a low hiss, and the snake came to a stop just before Bellatrix, rising up its head towards her. Bellatrix turned to look at her master quizzically.

"It...It's a snake." She uttered dumbly. "Is it a pet, my Lord?"

"Indeed. I procured her on my most recent travels. She is beautiful, do not you think?"

"Yes...yes, my Lord." Bellatrix reached out, as if to pet the snake's head, but she snatched her hand away when it gave a menacing hiss. "What is her name?"

"She does not yet have one. This is my gift to you, Bella; a reward for my most loyal pet...the naming of a new one." He gave a deep chuckle. "Choose any name you like."

Bellatrix winced slightly as the snake slithered across her lap and up onto the Dark Lord's chair, settling over his shoulders. She had always had a dislike of snakes, in spite of her Slytherin loyalties. The very idea of choosing a name for this disgusting creature repulsed her; it did not seem like a gift or a reward at all. She thought for a moment, before giving a small sigh.

"What about the name Nagini, my Lord? It seems fitting for such a beautiful snake..."

"Nagini...what do you think of that?" The snake gave a small hiss, and the Dark Lord chuckled again. "She likes it, Nagini it is."

They fell into silence for a long moment, Bellatrix watching as the Dark Lord stroked the head of his new pet. Bellatrix felt uncomfortable and cold; she could hear the distant sound of the party and longed to return, to join the conversation with Barty and the others once more, to dance and to drink, to laugh and enjoy herself. She gave a small sigh, and the Dark Lord suddenly spoke once more.

"Tell me, Bella, have you heard from you cousin Regulus recently?"

Bellatrix looked up with wide eyes of surprise. After taking the Dark Mark a year earlier, Regulus had initially settled into life amongst the Death Eaters with ease. He was confident and keen, volunteering to take part in every mission that he was offered, and his abilities in the Dark Arts soon became well-known at Headquarters, eventually reaching the Dark Lord. About three months after Regulus had joined, the Dark Lord called him into his study to give him a personal mission. Regulus went abroad, and returned a month later looking shaken and frail. His usual loud, boisterous personality was gone, and it had been replaced by a boy more diminished and timid than Bellatrix had ever seen. A month earlier, Regulus had left the Headquarters for the weekend to visit his mother, but he did not return. No one had seen or heard from him since. Bellatrix swallowed nervously, contemplating how best to answer this question.

"No, my Lord. I have heard as little from him as any other Death Eater. Do you have knowledge of his whereabouts?"

"No." He replied darkly. "I am beginning to grow concerned, Bellatrix. It seems a great possibility that your cousin has defected entirely."

"He would never do such a thing, my Lord!" Bellatrix responded, apprehension churning in her stomach. "My cousin Regulus is devoted; he is supportive of our cause, and has been for as long as I can remember. There must be a reason why he has not returned."

"Then I wish you to learn of it." He stated. "Go to your Aunt Walburga's house, see what information you can find. Take Rodolphus with you to witness what you might hear. This must seem casual and friendly, Bellatrix – if he has defected, your aunt will strive to protect him if she thinks you are coming on my behalf. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord." Bellatrix replied. "Of course, my Lord. I will do as you ask."

The next day, Bellatrix and Rodolphus went to Grimmauld Place bearing Christmas gifts. It was unusual, standing on the doorstep of the place that she had once called home, waiting to be let in and nervous that her own family would refuse her. The door opened a moment later, and Rodolphus put his arm around Bellatrix, giving a wide grin to her aunt Walburga. Bellatrix was taken aback by her aunt's appearance. She looked shrunken and withered, a suspicious frown on her face, her back hunched as if she were trying to hide.

"Bellatrix? What do you want?" She barked loudly, her eyes darting around the square behind them.

"I thought I would pay you a long overdue visit, aunt Walburga." Bellatrix replied, a smile on her face. "You've yet to meet my husband, Rodolphus, and if you cannot visit your relatives at Christmas, when can you?" Her aunt narrowed her eyes.

"I suppose you'll want to come in..."

"Well, I would certainly like to get to know you better, Mrs Black." Rodolphus replied, holding out his hand. Walburga looked at it, before giving a disgusted sniff and opening the door.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus followed Walburga to the parlour, where they sat on the familiar stiff-backed sofa. Bellatrix was taken aback by the disrepair in which she now found the house; it was as if the house elf had simply forgotten to clean, and that her aunt no longer cared. Walburga stared at Bellatrix and Rodolphus, her eyes wide and afraid.

"What do you want? What do you really want?"

"As I said, aunt Walburga, I'd like to introduce you to my husband: this is Rodolphus Lestrange."

"Lestrange?" Walburga frowned. "Are you Ralph Lestrange's boy?"

"Indeed I am, madam."

"He comes from good stock." Walburga muttered, her eyes analysing him closely. "A fine pureblood family, a perfect match for you, Bellatrix."

"Rodolphus and I have brought a gift for you, aunt Walburga." Bellatrix said loudly, passing the large parcel to her aunt. The older woman scrutinised it for a moment, before tearing open the paper to reveal a purple cashmere scarf. Her aunt stroked it gently, a small smile upon her face.

"It is beautiful. Thank you. I do not have anything for you, however, for I did not know that you would come." Walburga narrowed her eyes suddenly, spotting the other parcel that sat in Bellatrix's lap. "Who is that gift for?"

"It is for Regulus." Bellatrix replied quickly. "We hoped that we would be able to see him. Is he at home...?"

"I knew it!" Walburga hissed, jumping to her feet and beginning to pace the room. "I knew you were here to pry! That is all you think we are good for, Bellatrix, squeezing information from us for the benefit of your master! You are here to kill him, aren't you? You want to kill him!"

"No, Mrs Black." Rodolphus said. "I promise that we are not here to kill your son..."

"Good! Not that it would make a difference; he is already dead! I know it, I can feel it in my heart that he is gone, and the pain is unbearable." She covered her eyes with her hands, letting out a long, painful wail. Bellatrix stepped forwards, gently placing her hand on Walburga's shoulder.

"We are worried about him...he hasn't been at Headquarters in weeks...I've written to him, but there's been no reply. We hoped that he would be here, safe, with you."

Walburga suddenly pushed Bellatrix' hand away, letting out a loud cry of rage and despair. Her eyes were wild and bloodshot, her face red and swollen. She pointed a gnarled finger at Bellatrix, baring her crooked teeth.

"You don't care for him at all! Neither of you do! Regulus is no doubt lying dead in a ditch somewhere, killed by that precious master of yours. The master who you killed your own family to follow, Bellatrix, or have you forgotten that so quickly?" She yelled madly. "You are nothing but a cheap whore, who is trying to claw her way back in here to cause only more pain and more destruction."

"How _dare _you speak to her like that?" Both Bellatrix and Walburga gasped in shock at the sound of Rodolphus' booming voice. Bellatrix turned to look at him, and was taken aback to see the look of unbridled rage upon his face. He stepped forwards, towering over both Walburga and Bellatrix menacingly. "Bellatrix cares about Regulus, and she is far more than a whore. She has the guts to do what you would never dare; you spout your pureblood superiority, your loyalty to the Dark Lord's cause, but what are you doing to _support _it? You are a hypocrite, madam, which is a crime far worse than any of which you accuse your own niece. We are leaving now. Bellatrix, come along now, leave you aunt alone to stew in her bitterness."

Bellatrix jumped slightly when Rodolphus slipped his hand into hers. She looked at him, her mouth slightly ajar and her heart hammering wildly. It was such an unusual comfort, to have someone holding her hand so tenderly – she had never experienced it before. Rodolphus kept his hand in hers as he led her from the house, and he still did not let go as they disapparated from the square. They arrived moments later on a stretch of stony beach by the sea, the waves roaring and crashing, the wind howling. This was the second part of the task that the Dark Lord had given them. Neither Bellatrix nor Rodolphus knew why, but they had been sent to inspect a cave on the west coast of Wales. The Dark Lord had been cryptic about its importance, but it was vital to him that they completed several diagnostic tests on the location, and that the task was to be kept an absolute secret. Rodolphus kept hold of Bellatrix's hand as they approached the entrance of the cave.

"What are the diagnostic spells we had to complete?" Rodolphus shouted, struggling to make his voice heard above the waves.

"We need to test for presence of human life inside, if anything has been disrupted and..." Bellatrix frowned slightly, "a count of the dead."

Rodolphus spread his hands wide and looked up at the cave, before waving his wand in a conical shape. The cave gave a off a slight amber glow and, after a moment, Rodolphus staggered clumsily backwards. He turned to Bellatrix, who was watching him with some concern, and shook his head slightly.

"There's no human life in there, it's empty." Bellatrix gave a nod, before doing exactly what Rodolphus had done. Moments later, the cave flashed a pale red.

"Something has been moved but, from what I can detect, only slightly."

"I do not think that will satisfy the Dark Lord." Rodolphus replied with a sigh. He repeated he process for a third time, causing the cave to give a greenish glow. Bellatrix frowned slightly as his face seemed to pale, and he turned slowly to face her. "From...from what the charm tells me...there are around 210 dead within."

Bellatrix looked at the cave. It was nothing special, just a simple natural cave, but it did have a distinct air of magic about it. She could not conceive what the purpose of it was, why it was so important that they check it for the Dark Lord. Bellatrix felt sick to her stomach at the death count in there. She must have been staring at it for a long time, for she jumped suddenly at the sensation of Rodolphus' arm around her shoulders.

"Do you think Regulus...?" Bellatrix mumbled, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Of course not." Rodolphus interjected, squeezing her shoulder tightly. "Regulus is safe; he certainly isn't in there..."

"I can only say that I hope that's true." Bellatrix gave a sigh and turned to look at Rodolphus. "Shall we go back to Headquarters?"

"I think we have time to go on a little diversion first." Rodolphus replied. "Hold tight."

They disapparated. Seconds later, Bellatrix's feet landed upon a thick carpet, and she looked around to see that they were in the entrance hall of a grand country house. She turned and looked quizzically at Rodolphus, who was smirking rather smugly at her.

"Where on earth are we?" Bellatrix asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Welcome to my ancestral home! The house which, should I bite the dust, you shall inherit!"

"All of it?" Bellatrix replied with a similar smirk, walking over to a nearby table and writing her initials in the dust. "You shall have to keep it in better condition then."

"Well, as my wife, that is technically supposed to be _your _area of expertise. Come through to the sitting room, I believe my liquor cabinet is still as well-stocked as it ever was."

Bellatrix followed Rodolphus, her head turning from left to right to take in the surroundings. The living room was luxuriously decorated, if not a little filthy from lack of use; Bellatrix gave a flick of her wand, clearing the dust, and flashed a smirk at Rodolphus. She sat down on a wing-backed chair and watched as Rodolphus poured two large measures of scotch. Bellatrix took a small sip and gave a sigh as warmth flooded her body. Her eyes rested on a large painting that hung above the fireplace, which showed a severe looking man and a soft looking woman sat behind two young boys.

"Are those your parents?"

"Yes." Rodolphus replied. "Ralph and Dorothea Lestrange, and Rabastan and I aged five and two."

"You look like your father."

"Yes, but I don't have his temperament, thank goodness." Rodolphus swilled his drink around his glass. "My mother and father had an arranged marriage, you know."

"Really?" Bellatrix asked, surprised.

"My mother was eighteen, fresh out of Hogwarts, and my father was twenty seven. The marriage was made to boost my father's family's fortune, of course, but it was amicable. They were friends to begin with but I think, by the time they grew old, they loved one another. My father died when I was ten, my mother when I was twenty."

"What would they have thought of you now, if they had been here?"

"They would have been happy about my alliance with the Dark Lord and my position amongst his ranks; we are, and have always been of course, a family of pureblood pride. As for my wife..." He gave a small smile, "my mother would have liked you very much, but I'm sure she would have wished that we were closer."

Rodolphus was looking at her so earnestly, his eyes so intense, that it made Bellatrix blush. She turned her head from him, standing up and smoothing down her dress. Just as she made to leave, Rodolphus leapt up and stood in her way, gripping onto her arms to stop her.

"Let me go, Rodolphus." Bellatrix mumbled, squirming slightly in a bid to get free. Rodolphus simply dug his fingers into her flesh, causing her to give a slight hiss of pain.

"Is this what it will take to get you to listen to me, to pay any attention to me for more than a minute? Do I have to be as cruel as he is?" Rodolphus demanded, his face full of a pain that Bellatrix could not bear to see. He shook her. "Why is my kindness never good enough for you? I have tried everything I can, Bellatrix, but – "

"Because I don't deserve it!" She cried, standing still for a moment, her breathing deep and uneven. "I gave up any hope of kindness, of tenderness, when I devoted my life to the Dark Lord. I killed my own father, I am distanced from all of my family, my own cousin disappeared before my very eyes...I don't deserve your compassion, Rodolphus, or your pity or anything else."

Bellatrix's breath hitched in her throat as Rodolphus reached out and gently placed a hand on her cheek. His hand was slightly calloused, but it was comforting and warm. Her heart pounded as she inspected his face; his eyes crinkled at the corners, they were kind and warm, and his lip curled slightly making his smile lopsided. There was a smattering of pale facial hair across his jaw, and a small scar on the cleft of his chin, Bellatrix longed to ask him how he got it. She gave a breathy sigh, as he licked his lips and spoke.

"This isn't pity, Bellatrix, nor is it compassion really; it isn't even kindness. I think, if given half a chance, I could really l – "

"Don't." Bellatrix said, firmly pushing Rodolphus away and stepping back from him. "Of all the things you mustn't say to me, mustn't show to me, it is that. We were thrown together to further the Dark Lord's plans – friendship wasn't required from us, or expected, let alone..."

"Don't you feel _anything _anymore?" Rodolphus shouted, shaking his head furiously. "If you just opened your mind Bellatrix, if you stepped away from the Dark Lord for just _one moment _and learnt how to feel again, you would see the sense in this."

"I don't feel." Bellatrix replied, her voice empty of any kind of feeling or tone. "And when I do, I feel only for the Dark Lord, and only what he bids me to. You need to learn that it is dangerous to feel anything for anyone, Rodolphus; I learnt that the hard way, and that's how I ended up married to you."

Bellatrix left the house, her feet moving as quickly as they could, before she changed her mind.


End file.
